


Heart of Iron

by alltheSinnersandalltheSaints



Series: Lost and Found [2]
Category: Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Abuse, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Asexual Peter Parker, Bisexual Bruce Banner, Bisexual Tony Stark, Bullied Peter Parker, Bullying, Canon Typical Violence, Child Abuse, Crack Treated Seriously, Domestic Avengers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, FUCK endgame, Family, Fluff, Genius Peter Parker, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Peter Parker, Insomnia, Irondad, Irondad & Spiderson, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQA: the A is not silent, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Minor Character Death, Multi, Multiverse, No Sex, No Smut, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Not Spider-Man: Homecoming Compliant, Not canon compliant I do what I want, Occasional mention of homophobia, On Hiatus, Past Abuse, Peter Parker is Tony Stark’s Biological Child, Police Brutality, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Powerful Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Starvation, Superfamily - Freeform, avengers as a family, gen-z humor, momma spider
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:41:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 43,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23261143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alltheSinnersandalltheSaints/pseuds/alltheSinnersandalltheSaints
Summary: Things had been better, now that Peter was living with his father. He was doing great in school, was excelling as Spider-Man, and had finally settled into his new home and family.But what happens when his past comes back to haunt him?
Relationships: Bruce Banner/Tony Stark, Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Happy Hogan, Peter Parker & Avengers Team, Peter Parker & Ned Leeds, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Valkyrie/OC
Series: Lost and Found [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1641553
Comments: 119
Kudos: 257





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I got my hours cut so I decided to post this little exert to set the scene. (It was supposed to be up yesterday but we had no internet.) The first official chapter will be up April 4th. Lot's of suspense is coming your way!
> 
> And guys!!! Tom Holland is officially staying in the MCU after his 3rd movie! I'm super relieved! Especially after the shit show that is EG. I freaking hated that movie. But now we've got Spider-Man to help lead/save the MCU.

May sat patiently in the empty visitation room, lightly tapping her fingers on the cheap metal table. She eyed the guards posted at each entrance wearily. 

“So, how have you been?” Rick asked nonchalantly. He sat down across from his sister and leaned back in his chair, muscular arms crossed.

“You’re late.” May snapped, her voice was completely toneless.

“I’ve been busy.” He nodded towards the guards, signaling for them to leave.

Once they were alone, May turned to her brother and grumbled, “I wasn’t sure if they were any of yours. You could’ve given me a heads up.”

Rick smiled coyly. “I’ve got lots of eyes in the sky.” He sat forward and rested his elbows on the table. “We’ve got about ten minutes before the head of security realizes that four of her men didn’t actually show up to work today.”

May nodded slowly, her lips pursed. “When do you walk?”

“Next Monday at the latest. The trial went as planned. Judge Corbin wasn’t hard to convince. Especially once I explained that your nephew is a mutant. That guy hates those freaks.” 

“Well he’s not the only one.” Venom laced the woman’s words as she spit them out. “This had better work.” She pointed at her brother. “You better make hi-“

“Relax, May.” Rick cut his sibling off, waving his hand dismissively. “We planned for this, remember?”

“Of course, I remember.” Her glare intensified marginally. “I also remember how that little freak killed my husband and ruined my life!”

Rick held up his hands as a placating gesture. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of the brat.” His demeanor immediately darkened, and a malicious grin crept onto his face. “I hate him too. And I’m going to make him pay.”


	2. Breaking news

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team wants to celebrate Peter and all he’s accomplished since coming to live at the tower. And Peter just wants to enjoy some time with his friends as a “normal” teenager.
> 
> But Peter’s Parker luck, has other plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things…
> 
> 1) Same updating schedule of every 2 weeks  
> 2) The story is planned out; each chapter will be around 2,000-3,000 words.  
> 3) I’m studying to become a zookeeper; not a lawyer or doctor. So please excuse any discrepancies.  
> 4) Please ignore any translation errors. I only speak English.  
> 5) Like all my other fics I’ll be including many comic themes while creating my own universe. As usual I’m not following the MCU much at all.
> 
> Lastly, I’m super excited about this! I really hope you guys are too! Please leave kudos and comments to tell me what you think:) I love to hear from you guys!

Tony nonchalantly adjusted the sleeves of his freshly pressed suit. He maintained his suave businessman facade as he turned to his enthralled audience. “So, what do you guys think?”

The police commissioner, his many deputy, and assistant commissioners, as well as dozens of local police officers and detectives, broke out into boisterous applause. The reporters covering the event immediately began snapping pictures.

“That is fantastic!” Mr. Clearwater - the police commissioner - praised. He got up and shook the billionaire’s hand. “You always outdo yourself, Mr. Stark.”

“What can I say,” Tony smirked, “I’ve got unlimited amounts of cash and plenty of brains to go around. Might as well improve the world a little along the way.”

The commissioner chuckled. “Well I’m glad you feel that way. Your solar-powered drones are going to be an invaluable asset to the NYPD.” He clapped Tony on the shoulder and sincerely said, “I can’t thank you enough.”

Tony quickly shrugged off the praise. His audience was kind, but the casual touching and cramped quarters were starting to annoy him. He wanted out of that tiny, ill-decorated meeting room.

It was Peter’s first day of tenth grade, and Tony wanted to get home before him so he could put the finishing touches on the new spider stealth suit he’d made for the teen. While he worked in his lab, the rest of the team could set up the little party they planned to celebrate Peter’s transition into the next grade. 

Over the summer, Peter had started online classes at the prestigious college, MIT, per Tony’s request. It didn’t take long for Peter to excel or gain the reputation of a genius amongst his professors. In only three months, he’d been able to complete half of his schooling. And it wasn’t just Tony or Bruce that was proud; the college’s chief executive, as well as the board of trustees, were incredibly impressed. So impressed - and desperate to keep Peter as one of their students - they agreed to Tony’s demands. Peter would receive all online classes so he wouldn’t have to leave New York, and he could simply use his own high tech lab for any projects he’d need to complete. His diploma would even get mailed to him.

Besides his occupation as Spider-Man, Peter loved to help with Stark industries. He was a quick learner, and his kind, friendly demeanor helped him gain popularity among workers, investors, and business partners. Tony looked forward to leaving SI to Peter when it was time for him to retire. A scientist by day and Spider-Man by night was how Bruce put it.

Call it cheesy or cliche, but everyone wanted to surprise the little arachnid. Peter had been doing so well over the past few months, and he deserved to be rewarded. 

“Stark.” Someone called, breaking Tony from his thoughts.

“Yes?” Tony turned to find his least favorite deputy commissioner behind him. The man was nosy and entitled. “Oh,” he didn’t bother to hide his disinterest, “Mr. Norman. What can I do for you?”

“I couldn’t help but notice that your intern helped design the drones.”

He rolled his eyes. “I did specifically say that Peter was the one who came up with the idea. And that he was a major component in creating them. It’s good to hear that you aren’t deaf. At least you have that going for ya.”

“Hm.” The man gritted his teeth. “I suppose I’m bringing it up because… some of us… were concerned.”

“Concerned? Concerned about what?” Tony wasn’t sure where this was going but judging by the man’s tone and smug look; he knew he wouldn’t like it.

“Tony Stark hires a fourteen-year-old, out of nowhere, to help run his business, create Avenger tech, and is paying for said teenager’s education. You don’t find that a bit strange?”

“What the hell are you insinuating?”

“That this intern of yours, Peter Parker, is more than just an intern.” He cocked his head to the side in mock concern. “Peter Stark, perhaps?”

The billionaire’s anger flared, but he was quick to school his expression into one of detached aloofness. He and Pepper had done an excellent job of keeping Peter’s adoption and true lineage under wraps. The truth would eventually come out, but if they could wait until the kid turned twenty, they would. 

“First off, my name is Tony Stark-Banner. I’m married if your homophobic ass forgot. My CEO held a press conference about it last month. Secondly, while I deeply care for Peter, he is only my personal intern. Not my son. Thirdly, if I ever find out that you’ve been spreading lies about me or my company,” he lowered his voice to a gruff whisper, his gaze boring deep into the deputy’s, “I promise I will destroy your career and ensure you spend the rest of your pathetic life in prison.” 

Calmly, Tony adjusted his suit jacket and smiled as if he hadn’t just scared the piss out of someone - someone he really wanted to deck but wouldn’t because of the bad press it would cause. He announced his exit to the remaining commissioners - all of whom were quite fond of the billionaire, the Avengers, and Peter - and took his leave.

***************

“How was your day?” Ned asked as he fell into step with his best friend. “Got any assignments yet?” They stopped by the lockers across from the main entrance so they could wait for MJ.

“None yet.” Peter shook his head, his curls bouncing. “Not that I’m complaining. You?”

“Nah, I think the teachers are giving us a break for the first week. Which is kind of nice-“

“Hey, Parker! Puny Parker!” Flash interrupted by shoving Peter against the lockers. The bully turned to Ned and sneered. “What are you two nerds waiting for, huh, chubs?”

Peter pushed himself up off the dirty tile floor with a grunt, immediately putting himself between the two boys. “Leave Ned alone.” 

All his life, Peter let Flash verbally and physically bully him. So long as no one else got hurt, he was okay with being a punching bag. It sucked, but he was okay with it. When he became Spider-Man dealing with the hits got easier because any cut or bruise healed within an hour. But no amount of extraordinary powers could stop the names and insults from piercing his soul.

“What’re you gonna do about it, Rexy?” Flash jabbed his finger into Peter’s chest. He had no problem throwing around the derogatory term used for anorexics.

“I told you, I’m not anorexic.” Peter glared up at the taller teenager. “Why can’t you just leave us alone? What have we ever done to you?”

“What you did Parker,” Flash sneered, his face just inches from Peter’s, “was get an A on Mr. Good’s chemistry test, an A on the Spanish quiz, the biology exam, and everything else! You come here on a scholarship because you and your family are poorer than dirt!” He was full out yelling now. “You, a scrawny, nerdy freak, got a full ride to this school, and you don’t deserve it. Then you start lying about having an internship at Stark Industries. When there are people, like me, who actually pay to be here but get shown up,” he grabbed Peter’s collar and angrily shoved him into the lockers again, “by a worthless piece of trash like you.”

Before anyone could react to Flash’s harsh words, MJ made her presence known. “Say one more word, and you’re off the decathlon team.”

Flash’s eyes went wide, and he immediately let go of Peter. “Wha- you can’t do that.”

MJ’s stern brown eyes could’ve burned into someone’s soul. “I’m the captain,” she smirked, “I can do whatever the hell I want.” She leaned in a wicked smile on her face. “So do yourself a favor and leave my friend and boyfriend alone. Or we’re going to have a problem.”

Flash opened his mouth then quickly snapped it shut, probably realizing that he would only make things worse for himself if he tried to argue. With his tail tucked between his legs, he rushed out of the main entrance and into the parking lot.

“Thanks, MJ.” Peter curled his fingers around MJ’s offered hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, which she quickly returned. “Sorry, you had to-“

“Don’t you dare apologize.” Her words were forceful, but there was no malice in her gaze. Only love and compassion.

“Yeah, man.” Ned agreed, bumping Peter’s bony shoulder as they descended the steps and began heading down the sidewalk. “Don’t listen to that jerk. He’s just jealous of you.”

“We know you’re skinny because of your spidery physiology. You get all A’s because you’re a genius.” MJ reassured him. “And we know you aren’t lying about the Stark internship.” She chuckled and nudged Peter’s shoulder. “Well, you sorta are.”

“Oh my god!” Ned laughed. “Flash and his goons would shit themselves if they found out that the avengers are your family.”

That made Peter laugh. And his sweet, infectious laugh caused the other teens to crack up. When they calmed down enough to speak again, MJ whispered in Peter’s ear, “never apologize for who you are. You are unique, and that’s what makes you special.”

Peter blushed, his cheeks turning bright pink. He mumbled a quiet, “thank you.” And pressed a kiss to MJ’s temple. “I love you.”

“Hm. Love you too, loser.”

*************

Tony looked at the finished spidey stealth suit and smiled. “Oh yeah, Peter is gonna love this.”

The suit design was the same as Peter’s other spider suits with all of the same tech. But the fabric of this suit was a rich black color to help the teen blend into the shadows during stealth or night missions. Unlike the bold and flashy red and blue, the black would come in handy for specific Avenger missions that required more espionage than explosives.

“Run diagnostics one more time, Friday. I just want to make sure everything is working properly.” He closed out of any other programs he’d been working on and grabbed his water - he kept his promise to Peter and was making healthier choices - then headed to the elevator. “Is Pete and his buddies, okay?”

“I have already run diagnostics on the stealth suit, four times.” Friday’s snarky voice answered. “But, I will run them again.” Her voice softened when she began talking about the arachnid. “Peter and his two friends are currently twenty minutes away at Delmar’s sandwich shop. They are in no danger.”

Tony smiled. “Thanks, baby girl. You’re a doll.”

“Everyone is in the common room, shall I take you there?”

“Sure. Peter’s going to be home in an hour or two, so I can probably tolerate being alone with the team. Bruce is up there, right?”

“Yes, Boss.”

“Great.” He sipped his lukewarm water and gagged. “Damn those adorable puppy eyes.”

“Peter’s patented ‘puppy dog eyes’ do wonders.” Tony could practically hear the smile in the AI’s voice.

“Whose side are you on?”

Her reply was immediate. “Peter’s, of course.”

**********

There were common rooms spread throughout the tower with two entire floors - floors eighty-six and ninety - dedicated entirely to being lounge areas and living spaces where the whole team could simply hang out. Her work was often stressful and very dangerous, so it was nice to have a place to relax. But it was floor eighty-six that was almost always used since it was closer to the team’s apartments. 

Throughout the summer months, Bruce had reinstated the long-standing tradition of team movie nights. One night each month, when most, if not all of the team was available, they would congregate in the large, spacious living room and huddle down to watch a movie. It had been a bit awkward the first time around, sitting so close to some of the others - what was previously known as the rogues.

But Tony quickly fell back into the routine of having a team. Missions were much easier to handle, and the tower was no longer vacant. Especially when both Bruce and Peter were so giving and empathetic towards himself and the other heroes.

And having Peter pass out curled up next to him or seeing the teen clinging to another unsuspecting teammate was a big perk. He looked even younger when he slept.

“Tony.” Bruce greeted his husband with a kiss when he stepped out of the elevator. “How’s the suit coming?”

Tony returned the kiss before answering, his hand briefly squeezing the scientist’s ass. “All done.” He pressed another loving kiss to Bruce’s lips. “And maybe tonight, after Peter’s headed out on patrol, I can do some other stuff… you perhaps?”

“Oh my god, honey.” Bruce’s face heated up red, but he didn’t deny his husband’s plans. “Come on, there’s a seat by me.” He winked as he led them over to the loveseat the couple usually shared.

“Just don’t make me barf,” Clint warned, his voice playful rather than curt.

The billionaire smirked. “No guarantees, Katniss.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.”

“Quiet, boys.” The black widow sat back on the couch, remote in hand. “I’m trying to catch up on the news.”

“Why do you watch this stuff?” Clint gestured to the screen.

Sam took a sandwich from the pile Steve made. “Because it’s good to stay informed.” He swallowed before continuing. “Plus, knowing what the weather is gonna be like is helpful when you run each morning.”

“But there’s so much depressing shit. It’s just one bad thing after another.”

“Guys.” 

All conversation stopped. None of them had ever heard Natasha speak like that. Ever. Her voice had dropped to barely a whisper; she sounded scared. They all looked to the tv to see what had spooked the stone-cold spy.

Tony was the first to react, rage igniting in every fiber of his being. “What the ever-loving fuck!”

Clint threw his hands up. “See what I mean!”

**********

Blinking back tears, all Peter could do was sit there as the latest news story played out on the small tv Delmar had set up in the corner of his shop. Ned starred in pure shock while MJ gulped down the lump in her throat and firmly held her boyfriend’s hand as the broadcaster spoke.

“It was just announced. Rick Donavan, who was accused of child abuse early in the fall of last year, has been declared not guilty. As of last night, he has been officially pardoned and is to resume his position as chief of police.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please stay safe everyone! Thank you for reading! Love you guys:)


	3. Suspicions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter finds comfort in his parents, but finds it hard to let go of past fears.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The x-men are in this universe, but they’re a smaller organization than in most comics. As mutants are usually rare in my stories. The Avengers Unity Squad was put in place (in the comics) by Steve to improve human and mutant relations. The same arrangement is active in this universe.
> 
> Also, I saw the Morbius trailer and it looks… decent. I wouldn’t have even thought to go see it if Tom wasn’t going to remain in the MCU. But he is staying in the MCU, so we’ll see.

“Peter. It’s- you’re going to be fine.” MJ put both her hands on the sides of Peter’s face and gently turned his head away from the tv. She could see he was on the verge of a panic attack and hastily tried to calm him. “Look at me and only me.”

Peter’s eyes locked onto his girlfriend’s beautiful face. He took in all of her features and perfect imperfections. He counted every single cute freckle on her nose in order to calm himself. Ned’s hand found its way onto Peter’s shoulder, and he was grateful for it. He was so thankful that he had such wonderful friends.

“Are you… okay?” Ned asked once Peter’s breathing had returned to normal.

“Y-yeah.” He nodded jerkily. “Sorry ’bout that.”

MJ shook her head. “You big dork; don’t apologize for something that isn’t your fault.” She ran her hand through his curls. 

“Sor- uh yeah.” He pulled back and stood up. “I’m just gonna… head home.” 

MJ nodded silently, wrapping her arms around Peter’s thin frame. Ned smiled sadly and joined the embrace. “Just call or text us if you need anything.” 

They had known Peter long enough to know that he needed the support of his dads right now. That he would feel better, safer, at home with his family.

Ned playfully punched the smaller teen’s shoulder. “MJ and I will just get an Uber. We live like five minutes from here, so don’t worry about us.” He knew Peter - who was the most selfless person ever - would feel guilty about leaving so abruptly. So he tried to ease his friend’s mind in any way he could. “See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” Peter mumbled, his shaky voice betrayed how scared he was. 

With quick light steps, Peter sprinted back to the Tower. An average person would’ve reached Stark tower in no less than forty minutes if they sprinted the entire way. Peter arrived at the Tower only five minutes after leaving Delmar’s. On any other day, he would have restrained himself from running at his full capacity, but with how vulnerable and hurt he was feeling, he made an exception.

“Hello, Peter.” Friday greeted once the Avengers private elevator began to ascend. “I have alerted Boss and the team of your arrival.” 

Peter didn’t have the breath to speak, so he simply nodded, knowing Friday could see him through the camera hidden in the corner. He could tell that Friday knew what was going on, not because she had access to nearly every database, network, and filing system on the planet, but because she sounded less snarky and much more subdued. 

The elevator doors opened up on the penthouse floor, which was quiet except for two steady heartbeats. Dropping his backpack in the hallway by the elevator, Peter slowly walked into the living room. His heart lit up when he saw both his parents waiting for him. 

“Hi, Underoos.” Tony murmured lovingly as Peter rushed over and threw his arms around the billionaire’s waist. He could feel his shirt growing damp. “I’ve got you, baby, it’s okay.”

Peter quietly sobbed into his dad’s shoulder. Years of abuse had ingrained the idea into his mind that he was a burden, and he did not want to bother his parents. But the soft reassurances and gentle touches had him leaning into the comfort of the two pairs of arms holding him close.   
  


He didn’t want to admit how absolutely terrified he was. Rick had been worse than May, but somehow, he hadn’t been convicted. And now… he was free. 

Peter knew the man would eventually come after him. Rick was conniving, sneaky, and ruthless, not to mention he was chief of police. He had the influence, manpower, and lots of military-grade weapons on his side. It would only be a matter of time before Rick made his first move.

Bruce moved Peter’s bangs aside and kissed his forehead, one hand massaging the teen’s shoulder. When his son’s cries had turned to quiet whimpers, he suggested, “how ’bout we go sit down in the living room, watch some tv? Try to calm down a bit.” Bruce was not about to ignore what was going on, no way in hell. But he did not want Peter to hyper-focus on the negatives.

Like Tony, Peter would get so lost in his mind and the what _if’s_ , that he wouldn’t be able to eat, sleep, or focus on anything but the problem at hand. So he elected to distract the teen, something that wouldn’t last long, granted. But it was better than having Peter dive headfirst into a panic attack. It was already disappointing that the little party they’d been planning for Peter had to be rescheduled.

“Sounds like a good idea, honey.” Tony squeezed his husband’s hand - realizing the scientist’s usual technique. He then scooped Peter up, carrying him bridal style.

Even at Peter’s ideal weight of one hundred and ten pounds, he was still incredibly easy to lift. Tony often joked that he could bench press more than what Peter weighed - which he could. 

He sat down on the soft grey couch in front of the large flatscreen tv with Peter on his lap and Bruce to his right with Peter’s legs across his lap. The family often did this after a long day of work, school, and training. They liked the comfort of being close to each other and the privacy the penthouse gave them.

Halfway through one of Bruce’s favorite tv shows, mysteries at the museum, Peter was asleep.

***************

The heavenly smell of bacon and French toast roused Peter from his - surprisingly good - sleep. He looked around lazily and noticed that he was in his bedroom. _Dad must’ve carried me,_ he thought. His alarm clock read 6:15, which was an hour before he needed to be at school.

“Good morning, Peter.” Friday greeted him happily. “Boss and Dr. Banner are in the kitchen preparing breakfast and said you could join them whenever you are ready.”

“Thanks, Friday.” Tossing the duvet off of himself, he quickly went about showering and getting changed. After thoroughly scrubbing his body and washing his hair, he pulled on a pair of jeans and one of his science pun t-shirts.

Friday interrupted Peter’s search for his backpack by saying, “Boss moved your backpack to the living room.”

“Oh, yeah. I left it in the hall last night. Tell dad, I said thanks.”

“Of course.”

His stomach growled embarrassingly loud when he reached the kitchen, reminding him that he hadn’t eaten dinner last night. He smiled at his parents sitting at the large granite island in the middle of the kitchen. “Morning, mom. Morning, dad.”

Tony smiled and wrapped his arms around Peter once he was close enough. “You feelin’ okay, bambino? You slept for ten straight hours.”

“M’fine.” He mumbled, pulling away so he could hug his mom. “I feel rested so-“his stomach growled again. This time sending a sharp cramp through his abdomen. “And really hungry. Sorry.”

Bruce - truly a mother hen - sat Peter down and immediately pulled a plate together, piled high with buttery French toast and bacon. 

Peter liked to do just about everything for himself, but Bruce wanted to make this morning easier for him. “You don’t need to apologize for being hungry, Peter.” He chastised gently, knowing that Peter often fell back into old habits when he was nervous or had a lot on his mind. “You shouldn’t skip any meals ever. Last night was an exception, but we won’t be having a repeat.”

“Yes, mom.” Peter responded between large bites of food, his hunger not diminishing. “This is really good. Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” Bruce sat back down and sipped his coffee. “Tony made everything.” He said proudly.

“Really?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Don’t sound so surprised, Pete. Your appetite is as big as Thor’s. I had to learn sometime. Besides, you’re still growing, and according to Helen and mamma bear over here,” he gestured to Bruce, “I can’t feed you take out all the time.”

“I’m five foot nine, dad,” Peter deadpanned. “I don’t think I’m going to grow much more.” 

“You never know.” Bruce reached across the table to ruffle Peter’s hair. “Besides, we just want you to be healthy.”

Peter smiled, grateful for the amazing family he had. “I know.”

*****************

Only minutes after Peter left for school, Tony called an Avengers meeting to discuss the recent events of Rick’s release. He and Bruce were waiting in the team’s conference room when Happy texted him, letting him know Peter had gotten to school safe.

Happy always drove Peter to and from school, but Tony had two of his iron man suits trailing them, and four positioned inconspicuously around Midtown tech. He was not taking any chances when his son’s safety was involved. The team and Happy had wholeheartedly agreed. _It’s only_ _temporary_ ; Tony convinced himself. At least he dearly hoped so.

“I saw the news.” Natasha started the minute everyone - minus Rhodey, who was in DC for the week - had sat down. “There are at least five dozen ways I can kill him. I just need pliers, jumper cables, and a toothbrush.”

“I agree with Natasha.” Thor nodded enthusiastically; his hammer held high. “From what I’ve been told, this Donavon is truly the worst scum in this universe. I will see what Strange can do about other Donavons within the multiverse.”

“Thor no.” Steve sighed. “We can’t access other universes, only dimensions, and planets within our Galaxy. You know this… you’re just upset.”

The god huffed, his lips pulled into a pout. “I know.”

“And, Natasha,” Steve laid a hand on her shoulder, “we can’t just-“

Scott’s eyes grew as big as dinner plates when he fully processed what the spy had said. “I mean… I’m all for it, but what’s the toothbrush for?”

Natasha smiled wickedly, her mood already darkened. “Would you like to find out?”

“Nobody’s killing anyone, alright.” Steve said firmly. “I know we’re all upset right now, but we can’t afford to do anything rash. Understand?” Everyone nodded, knowing that Steve was right. “We just gotta take this one step at a time. See how things play out.”

“Are you suggesting we sit back and do nothing?” Tony looked at the captain incredulously. “My kid could be in danger, and you don’t want us to do anything about it!”

“That’s not what I meant, Tony.”

“Then what do you mean?” Bruce asked, glaring at Steve. 

“We need to gather as much information as we can on Donavon; in regards to Peter or not. We find out who his lawyer is, which judge pardoned him, and so on.”

Tony waved his hand dismissively. “I already have most of that info. Friday and I looked over everything last night. Pepper said she’d pull a few strings; try to find some things out too.”

“Good. Then our main priority is keeping up to date with Donavon’s plans and agenda as chief. But we have to lay low.” Steve sat back and crossed his arms. “He knew you were Peter’s father,” he looked to Tony, “therefore there’s a good chance that he knows Peter lives here.”

“What’s concerning is that he didn’t already tell the world about Tony’s secret son.” Clint added. “He could’ve sold that story for a lot of money.”

“So why didn’t he then?” Tony yelled. “Why hold that juicy bit of information? There was no guarantee he was going to be released.”

Steve rubbed his chin in thought. “That’s what concerns me. It’s almost like…”

“He was planning this.” Bruce finished, his hand locked around his husband’s.

Steve nodded. “Exactly.”

“That still doesn’t answer my question.” Tony squeezed Bruce’s hand.

“As hard as this is going to be to hear,” Steve began, “I don’t think we should do anything until we have more information.” The billionaire opened his mouth to interrupt, but Steve cut him off. “On his last patrol, didn’t Peter stop a double-decker bus going ninety with his bare hands?”

“Yeah.”

“As much as I don’t like Peter going out and putting himself in danger,” he sighed, “it’s reassuring to know the kid is capable. Peter is an extremely intelligent, brave, and resilient kid. But we don’t know Rick’s agenda. Because if we aren’t careful with how we go about this… Peter’s going to be the one to suffer.”

The team sat in silence, the captain’s words settling over them. It was Friday who interrupted them.

“Boss, there’s an incoming call from T’Challa. He wishes to speak with you.”

Tony groaned. “Redirect the call to my lab. I’ll be right up.”

“Of course, Boss.”

He placed a quick kiss on Bruce’s lips and stood to leave. Natasha’s determined voice stopped him.

“We will do all we can to protect Peter. That’s a promise, Tony.”

The billionaire nodded, knowing full well that things were going to get messy and having a team he could rely on - and who absolutely adored his son - would be invaluable.

***********

The talk with T’Challa ran longer than Tony had expected. Not that he minded. T’Challa was a gentleman, and Wakanda was a safe haven for the team. After discussing the vibranium tech - that was gifted exclusively to Tony to aid in the enhancement of Avengers tech, as well as the X-men’s in part of the Avengers unity squad - it was almost 1:00 p.m.

“There’s one more thing I need to ask of you, Mr. Stark.” T’Challa said, his form appearing on a hologram in Tony’s lab.

“Whatever you need, your highness.” Tony smirked. “Are you and Shuri planning to visit New York? I know Pete would love to nerd out with Shuri again.”

The king chuckled, “no, Stark. As nice as a visit would be, that is not what I’m referring to.” He paused as if hesitating. “The captain’s comrade, Sergeant Barnes, has been completely rehabilitated. He’s ready to return.”

“Huh.” Tony schooled his expression and shrugged, trying to appear calm. “Is that so?”

“If you would like him to remain in Wakanda, that’s perfectly fine. You and your family are always welcome here.”

“I appreciate that, truly.” And he really did mean it. Having an alliance with Wakanda was opulent. “But for the record,” Tony ground out through clenched teeth, “Barnes is not a part of my family. You can send him here, but with all the trouble he’s caused... there’s no guarantee I won’t kill him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe. Please take care!


	4. How to give your dads a heart attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things seem to be going smoothly. But Peter's selfless nature and hero complex can get him hurt. And his dads do not like that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My confidence is very shaky right now. Like, really, really, really shaky. I’m getting very little feedback on this story and it kinda hurts. Scratch that, it hurts a lot! I was so excited to post this but now… I don’t know.  
> Please yell at me in the comments! Whether it’s good or bad just tell me what you think. Please! I love getting feedback. Comments make me feel like writing is actually worth it because your comments show me people are actually reading my stuff. And if you actually like my crap writing then a kudos would be super nice. Please?
> 
> Sorry. I’m sorry for bitching. I just… feel really disappointed I guess. Like the wind got knocked out of my sails. Why keep posting if no one likes it?
> 
> Anyway, here’s the next chapter.

Four weeks had passed since Tony’s conversation with the king of Wakanda. October had officially wrapped its arms around the city of New York. The temperatures were beginning to drop at night, and the leaves were flashing the season’s latest style of yellow, orange, and red.

It was nearly 3:00 a.m, and the inhabitants of the Tower were currently sleeping. Tony and Bruce were curled up next to each other in their king bed, limbs intertwined, their breathing in sync with one another. 

After the couple had officially adopted Peter, the mechanic’s sleep had greatly improved. No longer did he pull all-nighters while simultaneously drinking his entire body weight in coffee. He was still a bit of a workaholic, sure, but now he had someone that truly needed him.

Of course, he loved Bruce, absolutely no doubt about that. After they’d married, Tony cleaned up his act some. He’d stopped the one night stands over two decades ago. But now there were no crazy parties or reckless and unnecessary maneuvers as Ironman. 

But when he dropped the alcohol, he replaced it with coffee. There was always a loophole to exploit. And Bruce - as much as he completely loved and adored Tony - could handle himself. He didn’t need the billionaire to keep living, not really. 

Peter did, though. He relied on Tony and looked up to him as if he’d hung the moon and the stars that danced across the night sky and lit up the world. And Tony needed that. The skinny little genius was Tony’s reason to enjoy life and not just float through existence until he was assassinated by some rival or was killed in battle. He was indebted to the young hero and probably needed Peter more than the teen needed him. 

So, when Friday spoke up late one Friday night in a voice far too emotional to belong to an AI, “Peter has returned from patrol and is suffering from a severe puncture wound in his abdomen.” Both men jolted upright and unceremoniously tripped over the blanket and themselves in their haste to reach their son.

“Where is he?” Tony choked out as he and Bruce jumped into the elevator. He began pulling at the sleeves of his nightshirt. “Whe-“

“He is currently on floor eighty-six in the common area. He appears disoriented and is losing blood.”

“Fuck!” Bruce cursed, mentally willing the elevator to move faster. Bruce never cursed.

Tony paced back and forth within the confined space. The tile floor felt so cold under his bare feet. Another shock to his system. “Alert medical.” He began listing off commands in an attempt to keep his mind from spiraling. “Get Cho, make sure she knows what’s going on.”

“Already done.” Tony thanked a god he didn’t believe in for the AI’s intuitiveness. “I have also alerted the team. They may be able to provide support.”

As soon as the elevator doors opened, both men flew out to find their kid. They found him leaning up against one of the floor to ceiling windows he so often came in and out of. 

He was covered in blood with a fucking machete jabbed halfway into his stomach.

“Shit.” Tony knelt down beside the teen and tried to assess the injury, his heart beating a mile a minute. “You with me, bud?”

Peter nodded and squeezed his mask tighter in his hand. “Yeah, dad. Got hurt… jus’ a little.”

“The machete has not punctured any of his organs or damaged his spine. It is safe to move him.” The AI informed, trying to be helpful.

One look at his husband and Tony knew that Bruce was barely keeping it together. He was shaking and on the verge of tears. “I’ve got him.”

Bruce nodded, looking away guiltily.

“I’m gonna lift you up, okay, bud?” Tony was desperately trying to keep the teen conscious. “It’s going to hurt, but I need you with me. ‘Kay?”

Peter gave a weak thumbs up in acknowledgment then tried to brace himself. Pain flared through his abdomen as Tony lifted him, therefore jostling his injury. He bit his lip to keep from crying out, so hard it started to bleed.

“How many times have I told you to call us if you’re hurt? We’ll come to get you.”

“Dr. Cho and her medical team are waiting,” Friday informed them.

Tony ran as quickly and carefully as possible with Peter in his arms bridal style and back into the elevator. Every now and then, he would let out tiny cries and whimpers, and it broke both men’s hearts. 

Still, Peter’s hold on Tony - and Bruce’s hand - was loose. Which made the couple’s hearts break once again. Peter didn’t want to hurt anyone. Because even though Peter must be in what was unimaginable pain, he was still looking out for others.

Helen Cho - one of the few doctors Tony trusted who often helped with injuries whenever she was in the area - greeted them once they reached the medical wing. She led them to Peter’s reserved hospital room and had Tony lay Peter down on the bed before instructing the other nurses around.

“You’re going to be fine. Helen is going to fix you up.” Tony brushed his hand through Peter’s sweat-slicked curls. He babbled quietly and continuously as his nerves went haywire. He hadn’t seen Peter this hurt since he took a shot for Natasha during a mission two months ago. Then, the teen had accidentally kicked Steve through a wall, while Thor and Tony - still in his iron man suit - struggled against Peter’s strength to hold him down as the wound was cleaned.

Who was Tony kidding? Even if it was just a concussion or a little bruise, both he and Bruce tended to overreact - which annoyed Peter to no end. But after being Spider-Man for years and having to take care of all sorts of injuries on his own, the spiderling had to admit that it felt good to have support as well as proper medical supplies.

“Tony,” Helen said quietly, “I need you to step back.” She nodded to Thor and Steve, who stepped towards the bed while the other Avengers hung back. Bruce was nowhere in sight.

Immediately, Peter froze. He knew what was coming and wanted no part of it. In a dazed pain, he tried to move when the Captain and Asgardian took up positions around him. Thor was the only one stronger than Peter, so he took his arms while Steve took his feet. The suit that stood as an ever-present sentry within the room came to life and went to stand beside Steve.

“No, no, no.” Peter whimpered as Steve held his right leg down, and the empty suit held his left. A choked sob escaped him when Thor gingerly yet firmly wrapped his arms around Peter’s shoulders and chest, effectively keeping Peter from moving while pinning his arms crossed against his chest. Like how the pharaohs of Egypt were laid to rest.

Peter’s metabolism burned up any drug or medication before they could affect his system. Even Steve’s synthesized pain medicine, which Helen made specifically for someone with enhanced metabolism, did absolutely nothing to help the teen. His metabolism was just way too fast.   
  


Everyone hated that Peter needed his own personal room in the med-bay. Despite being incredibly strong, fast, and skilled, with a spider-sense that tipped him off to any unseen danger, the young hero was loyal and selfless to a fault. If he ever got hurt on patrol or on a mission, more often than not, it was because he was shielding one of his teammates or a civilian. He would willingly sacrifice himself to save others, which made Tony so proud but also hurt him so much.

Part of the shipment from Wakanda included a lab table with built-in cuffs, the entire thing made from solid vibranium. Its sole purpose was to hold Peter down in case of instances like this.

A pained gasp brought Tony from his thoughts. He looked up to see Peter staring right at him, sweat-slicked forehead with tears streaming down his cheeks. “Da-dad.”

“I’m here, bud. I’m right here, not going anywhere.” He brushed his thumbs against Peter’s high cheekbones, wiping the tears away. Seeing Peter like this… could be described as anything but heartbreaking. Truly heartbreaking. His words directly contradicted what his brain was telling him to do. It was taking all of his willpower not to run out of that room, hide in his lab, and ball his eyes out while simultaneously getting slammed by a panic attack. But this wasn’t about him. His kid needed him, and Tony would be damned if he wouldn’t help him.

“Please no…”

“It’ll be quick.” Tony inwardly scoffed at his word choice. This was not like getting a flu shot or ripping off a bandaid. “Just-just try to… just try to be still.”

A low whimper escaped the teen when Helen grabbed the machete’s handle. His attempts to move had all but ceased having lost most of his energy. Instead, he pleaded and begged for them to stop. It tore at everyone’s heartstrings. 

Helen’s face was pinched as if she were in pain as well. She looked to the heroes holding the boy. “On three.” 

“No, please!”

“One.” Natasha looked away and covered her ears. Curling into Clint, who was standing beside her, too shaken to move.

“Stop!”

“Two.” Thor, Steve, and the suit braced themselves.

“Please don’t! Dad!” Guilt curled around Tony’s insides as he forced himself to watch.

“Three.”

Peter screamed as the machete came free. The pain accompanied by the sudden surge of adrenaline gave Peter enough energy to struggle against his bonds. He pushed against Thor’s muscular arms in an attempt to sit up. Thor’s bulging muscles strained in order to keep the teen down. 

But the pain followed by the motion of sitting up forced him back down. And his eyes finally fluttered shut. 

“He passed out.” Helen clarified, her fingers moving in a rhythmic motion as she cleaned the flayed skin and prepped the heavy-duty bandages. The other nurses busied themselves with setting up an IV line to give fluids and nutrients and attached a heart monitor clip to the teen’s finger. “He won’t feel any more pain.”

Hearts laden with guilt and forlorn expressions, the avengers retreated. Each one knew they wouldn’t be getting any more sleep that night. Eventually, only Helen, Natasha, and Tony remained.

“Relax, Tony.” Hellen smiled - somewhat encouragingly - as she continued to wrap gauze over the cleaned and stitched up wound. “Peter’s one of the most powerful mutants out there, and as much as I hate to admit it…, he’s been through much worse. Don’t worry. He’s going to be fine.”

“I know.” Tony hummed, his eyes locked onto Peter’s unconscious form, tears flowing freely. Though he was barely listening. “Thanks, Helen.” 

“You don’t need to thank me. I care about Peter too.” She smiled fondly. Tying off the gauze, she said, “he tends to grow on you. Rather quickly might I add.” She moved to the doorway. “Please try to get some sleep.”

That pulled a soft laugh from the mechanic. “Heh, yeah. Like that’s going to happen.”

With a quiet sigh, Helen left, and silence settled over the room. The only sound was the beeping of the heart monitor, attached to Peter’s finger, and his slow, steady breathing. 

“I’ll stay with him,” Natasha said from her spot beside the door, breaking the silence. “Go check on Bruce.”

“By the sound of your tone, I take it you aren’t asking me.”

She pushed off the wall, her arms crossed. “Did it sound like a question?” She made eye contact with her friend and saw his misty eyes. Softening slightly, she said, “go be with your husband. I’ll stay with Peter until you’ve both settled down.”

Tony hesitated, not wanting to leave his son. But he trusted Natasha and was concerned for Bruce. “Okay. Thanks, Nat.”

“No problem.” She sat down in the chair Tony had previously occupied. Her smile fell once Tony’s footsteps receded into quiet echoes. She very gently squeezed her nephew’s hand - he was her son as far as she was concerned - and focused on his steady pulse.

There were very few things that bothered the weathered spy. She’d seen people being tortured, witnessed death and destruction first hand. She herself had killed hundreds of people. But seeing her baby spider in pain was at the top of that list, and it shook her to the core.

************

Three floors down, Tony stood in front of a closed door. A large seven-foot by ten-foot door made entirely of vibranium. There were four Hulk proof rooms installed throughout the Tower, built entirely of vibranium five inches thick. They could withstand any attack or outside force, alien or not. They were more commonly known and used as safety zones. They could even be used as containment units. Like now, if Bruce ever lost control.

The little control panel to the door’s right could be used to open and close the door. All the Avengers knew the codes to enter and exit. But only Tony or Peter knew the override code to open the doors if Bruce hulked out and needed to be released as the Hulk. Bruce himself could override Code Green once he’d returned to human form.

Tony sighed, his finger pressing the intercom to communicate with as well as see whoever was on the other side. “Bruce?”

“No, Banner! Only Hulk.” Came the bellow of the Hulk. The muscular behemoth pounded his chest and roared. “Where?”

“Where? I’m not sure what you’re talking about, big guy.” Tony leaned back against the wall, mentally preparing himself for a long, one-sided conversation. The Hulk could be very stubborn at times.

A giant fist smacked against the door. “Baby Avenger. Where is the baby Avenger?” 

_Oh,_ Tony thought, _he’s worried about Peter._ “You mean Peter?” The Hulk nodded his head vigorously. “Pete’s fine. He’s… he’s sleeping now.” He was actually unconscious, but he didn’t need to tell a ticking time bomb that.

“Baby Avenger is safe?” 

Tony never heard the Hulk talk so much, or sound so… concerned. He didn’t seem angry anymore, just worried. “Yeah, big guy. Peter is fine.” The billionaire took a deep breath. “You’re worried about him.”

“Hulk worried! Banner worried!” Now he seemed angry. “Want to see baby! Need to speak to baby!” Two loud bangs echoed from within the room. “See baby now!”

“Hey, hey… take it easy, big guy.” Tony began his process of calming the Hulk so Bruce could take over. However, he couldn’t help but smile at the Hulk’s fierce love of Peter. “You can see Peter, but not right now, okay. He got injured and needs time to heal. You understand, big guy?”

What could only be described as a huff and tantrum-like stomp came from the vibranium room. He didn’t respond for a few minutes but eventually ground out a quiet, “Hulk understand.”

Tony smiled, “good, that’s good, big guy. Now can I please talk to Bruce? I need him to help me check on Peter, okay. The baby Avenger needs Bruce right now.” He stepped back from the door.

Not five minutes later, and the vibranium door slid open with a whoosh. A very worn out Bruce Banner was sitting on the floor, his stretched out pants pooling around him.

“Tony?” The scientist reached out, and Tony was quick to grab his hand.

“I’m here, baby.” He kissed Bruce’s temple and pulled him into a side hug as sobs began racking Bruce’s body. Tony’s shoulder rapidly grew wet. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.” Bruce held on tighter. “Peter? Is he-“

“Peter’s fine. Helen took care of everything.” Tony shushed him gently. “It’s okay-“

“But it’s not!” 

Tony jolted back, Bruce’s hostile front unfamiliar to him. It was very unusual for the generally calm and quiet man to yell and look so angry.

“How the hell am I supposed to be there for Peter if I can’t control myself or the other guy? Peter n-needed me! You needed me.” A river of tears slid down his cheeks. “Peter’s my kid, and he should be able to- be able to rely on me. I’m his mother! I’m supposed to help him and support him! But I didn’t. I freaked out!”

“Bruce, honey,” Tony firmly gripped his husband’s shoulders, “you do support him. Peter loves you, and he knows he can count on you.”

“But when he-he needed me… I couldn’t move, I couldn’t think… I panicked, and the other guy took over.” He delved back into quiet sobs.

Tony looked up at the ceiling, trying to think of a way to calm Bruce down and fix this mess. “Look, I know you were scared. I was too. And we had every right to be.” Rough, calloused hands began rubbing the scientist’s back, making the little circle patterns that always soothed him. “We can work on that, though. The Hulking out thing I mean.” He chuckled. “We’re always going to freak out when Peter gets hurt. He is very good at getting into trouble. Subsequently giving us grey hairs.”

Bruce laughed and wiped his eyes. “O-okay. You’re right.” With a strong arm steadying him, he managed to stand. His legs shook, but he managed to stay upright. “Let’s go see our boy.”

“Might wanna change first.” Tony quirked an eyebrow, not bothering to hide his smirk. “Pete is asleep right now, but he definitely won’t like seeing you naked when he wakes up.”

Blushing, Bruce replied, “yeah, you’re right.”

**************

Thanks to Peter’s insanely fast healing and regenerative abilities, the large puncture wound was entirely healed by the next morning. Helen inspected the fresh pink skin, which was slightly tender to the touch. 

“As usual, the wound healed very nicely,” she said to the couple as she changed the bandages. “I still want him to take it easy this weekend, though. No training, missions, or patrols.”

Tony nodded. “That’s fine with us.” He shared a look of agreement with his husband before turning back to Peter’s still sleeping form. “Neither of us want him back out there so soon. I had like, five heart attacks last night.”

Helen chuckled at the billionaire’s attempt at a joke and taped off the end of the gauze to prevent it from coming off. Carefully, and with light fingers, she checked Peter’s pulse and breathing with the stethoscope draped over her neck. 

Peter’s naturally thin frame, combined with his other powers, gave his body a skeletal yet muscular look. Most of his bones were at least slightly prominent against his fair skin. His ribs and hip bones jutted out, and his stomach was concave, yet he had a noticeable six-pack with defined back muscles and biceps. 

But it wasn’t Peter’s unique mutant physiology that drew the doctor’s attention - she knew all about Peter’s abilities and thought he was an exciting and lovable kid. What she couldn’t stop herself from noticing was all the other scars that littered Peter’s lithe figure. Most of which were more visible now than any other time she had treated him.

Pale, faded lines ran down his left shoulder to his bicep. There were plenty of other similar scars on his stomach and calves. There were dark circular scars speckled across his back, legs, stomach, and sides that she immediately recognized as old bullet wounds. Other, smaller gashes and marks faded in and around his ribs and arms. Most of the scars would’ve gone undetected had the teen been in more than just his boxers.

“I try not to think about how many times he had to take care of himself after a rough patrol. Or after getting beaten by those assholes.” Tony’s quiet statement threw the doctor off guard. She hadn’t realized she was starring. But she quickly composed herself and continued the task of removing Peter’s IV.

Helen didn’t know how to respond to that. The majority of her work consisted of research, testing her experiments, and conferences regarding her fieldwork. Helping abused teens was not her area of expertise. 

Eventually, she settled on, “it- it certainly wasn’t fair; cruel even. But now… now he has people to rely on.” She looked to Bruce then back to Tony. “It won’t be long before he wakes up.” The fond smile on her lips came naturally upon looking at the teen. “I leave for South Korea tonight, but please notify me if you need anything else.”

Bruce shook her hand, gratefully. “Thank you, Helen. We’ll see you around.” He pulled the extra chair in the corner up to the bed once they were alone. It didn’t take long for the husband’s hands to be interlocked. 

It was no secret how much the couple loved Peter. Or how much Peter loved his parents and the rest of the team who he considered family. And being the youngest and most innocent, Peter was the baby of the family. The little brother or nephew they all loved and wanted to protect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please stay safe everyone!


	5. Taking it easy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The doctor orders Peter to take it easy for a few days. And the team is ready and willing to keep the teen comfortable and have some good, quality bonding time. 
> 
> Cue up the fluff and family shenanigans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and lovely comments on this story and my latest one-shot! I can’t accurately describe how happy they made me. I’m so relieved to hear that you’re enjoying this story!
> 
> This chapter is mostly fluff because our sweet little bean deserves a break. I hope you enjoy it! Please stay safe everyone.

An hour after Helen left, Peter’s hazel brown orbs fluttered open. Much to the couple’s relief.   
  


“Hey, Underoos.” The mechanic smiled broadly. “How ya feelin’?”

“Hmm.” Peter scrubbed at his eyes, tiredly. He felt surprisingly well rested considering the events of last evening. “Um, ’m fine. Stomach is kinda sore.”

“Kinda?” Tony scuffed. “You were impaled… by a fucking machete.”

“Don’t let Mr. Rogers hear you talkin’ like that.” Peter chuckled quietly. “He doesn’t like it when people curse.” He looked down at his concave stomach, running his fingers over the sterile white gauze. “Thanks for helping me out. I’ve been stabbed before, and it’s pretty annoying having to have to remove the knife then clean the wound and-“

“You’ve been- how many times have you been stabbed?” Bruce asked horrified.

Peter merely shrugged, “too many to count.”

“That’s awful I-“

“It’s fine, dad,” Peter cut the billionaire off and squeezed his hand gently, “really. But you know what was cool about the mugger that stabbed me?”

Both men looked at each other then back to Peter, their expressions one of dismay. “What?” Tony asked.

“Before the guy stabbed me, he made a pun! He was all like; its knife to meet you. And then he stabbed me.” He took in his parent’s slack-jawed expressions. “What? It was funny! He made a pun.”

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. _This kid,_ he thought. “Okay, enough crazy talk.” He ruffled the teen’s unruly hair. “You healed in less than six hours; I know you’re hungry.” 

Peter nodded eagerly, his stomach growling ferociously in accompaniment. When healing from any injury, particularly a larger or more severe injury, he needed to eat a lot - not like he didn’t eat a lot any other day, though.

“Friday, can you ask someone to bring up some food for the little garbage disposal here?” He winked at his kid. 

“Of course, Boss.” The AI responded dutifully, her voice chipper and clear. “The team has just finished making breakfast. Thor and Miss Romanov will arrive shortly.”

“So,” Tony pulled out his Stark pad and began catching up on some S.I emails, “you’ve gotta take it easy this weekend. Doctor’s orders.”

“Meaning no patrolling or training.” Bruce chimed in, already sensing Peter’s dislike for the idea. “Thor’s going to be staying for the next few days. He’ll be able to keep you busy.”

“Fine.” Peter huffed, rolling his eyes in a rare display of teenage sass.

“Man of spiders!” Thor greeted loudly as he flung the door open. He marched into the room, proudly carrying a wooden tray filled to the brim with buttery pancakes, bacon, eggs, and orange juice. His sweatpants and t-shirt - Peter noted, were borrowed from Steve. “I come bearing gifts.” He waited for Peter to sit up properly before setting the tray down on his lap.

“Thank you, uncle Thor.” Peter smiled gratefully and dug in with gusto. “Thi’ is re’ y ‘ood.” They could barely understand him because his mouth was full of food.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.” Natasha chastised. She sat on the edge of the bed and bumped shoulders with her nephew. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.” She whispered into his ear, her breath tickling his skin.

“Thanks, aunt Tasha.” He pecked her cheek - a display of affection commonly seen between the two spiders. Natasha scooted closer to her nephew in response, moving one hand to the base of his neck and burying her fingers in his curls.

A few minutes later, Friday spoke up. “Boss, might I suggest a warm shower and a change of clothes? I believe Peter is well taken care of.” 

Peter swallowed his last bite before saying, “yeah, mom, dad. I know you’ve been here all night.” His parents were still in their pajamas, which were creased and wrinkled more than they usually would be, indicating a hunched-over sleeping position. Guilt rose in his chest. “Go take a break. Please.”

They wanted to say no, but Peter’s patented puppy eyes were basically irresistible. And a good, hot shower sounded lovely. “Fine.” Bruce caved first. Looking to his teammates, he asked, “will you guys keep Peter company? Make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.”

“Of course, my friend.” Thor slapped Bruce’s back when he went to stand. Tony had to grab him to keep him upright from the friendly pat. “Now young Stark-Bannerson,” he grinned happily at his nephew, “I can finally tell you about my journey through the planet Draconian, land of dragons!”

“What! You met dragons!” Peter beamed. “That’s so freaking cool!”

Natasha smiled fondly at the young hero geeking out about dragons and the god animatedly telling his tale. “I’ll take care of these two.” She gave the two scientists a shove towards the door. “Go have some fun.”

“Well,” Tony placed a delicate kiss on Bruce’s hand - like a prince kissing his princess, “if you insist.” 

Bruce’s cheeks burned red. “Babe.”

“Gross, dad.” Peter’s look of pure disgust had Natasha cackling. “No offense, but… I really don’t wanna see that.”

“We’re going.” Tony waved his hand dismissively as he pulled his husband out into the hall. “Don’t get your webs tied in a knot.”

************

“How was your fifth lunch?” Natasha asked as she set Peter’s plate in the dishwasher. It was Sunday, and Steve would be making a team dinner in a few hours, so she didn’t bother to start the machine.

“It was delicious.” The young vigilante praised his aunt. “I love your ham and cheese omelets. They’re the best.”

Natasha ruffled the teen’s hair once she rejoined him and the god at the kitchen island. “Вы мне льстите, паучок.” (You flatter me, baby spider.) She sipped on her slightly sweetened green tea, relishing in its warmth.

She and the god of thunder had dutifully stuck with Peter all weekend - not just because Tony and Bruce had asked them, but because they wanted to. Peter was so sweet, thoughtful, and just a joy to be around. Between eating everything in sight, Peter had taught Thor all about Star Trek and why it was better than Star Wars, showed him and Natasha how to build the Death Star from Legos, and watched the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy. 

“What did you say this game was called?” Thor held up a stack of standard playing cards. 

Peter took the cards and began dealing them out, splitting them between Thor and himself. “It’s called Slapjack. We each get a bunch of cards which we put in a pile upside down in front of us.” He put his cards into a neat little pile to show his uncle. “And then, at the same time, we each turn one over face up. You know what a jack looks like, right?”

Thor rubbed at his chin in thought. “I believe I do. Is he not wearing an aristocratic dress with long flowing locks?”

“I- yeah. He is.” Peter laughed. “So, if one of us plays a jack, whoever slaps their hand on it first gets to take it, along with all of the cards beneath it.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Then whoever has the most cards at the end wins.”

“Alright.” Determination flashed in the god’s eyes. “Are you ready to be defeated, young Stark?”

“In your dreams, sparkles.” The teen was up for the challenge. “On the count of three, we’ll start laying.” Both heroes eagerly grabbed the top card on their piles. “One, two… three!”

They each turned their cards over, revealing three of diamonds and eight of hearts. Again they flipped the top card, then again and again. 

“What’s up, guys?” Clint sauntered into the kitchen and went right to the fridge. He still had his pajamas on because, according to him, ‘Saturday and Sunday were the vacation days of the week.’

“I’m showing uncle Thor how to play Slapjack.” Peter turned over another card. It was an ace this time.

Tony came around the corner seconds later with a cup of apple juice in one hand and his phone in the other. “Pete I need help with something an- wait!” A tumultuous crack cut off his plea as Peter’s hand met the granite countertop. 

The three-inch thick granite split in half like a knife cutting through butter and promptly crumpled to the floor, leaving little pieces of stone everywhere and denting the tile floor. Everyone’s gaze fell to the teen.

Peter’s eyes grew wide, and he immediately launched into apologetic rambling. “Um… I um, uh… S-sorry. I can fix- well, I’ll try too. But it won’t be- I didn’t mean to hit it that hard!”

“Holy shit! That was awesome!” Clint burst up laughing, nearly spilling his drink he was shaking so hard. “I am so glad I saw that. Ha!”

“I’m so sorry, dad. Really I-“

“Pete, kiddo, it’s okay.” Avoiding the rocky mess, Tony made his way over to Peter and patted his shoulder reassuringly. “Accidents happen. Besides,” he gestured to the mess with a wave of his hand, “this is pocket change. No biggie.”

“I still feel bad.” He looked forlornly at the wreckage he caused, shuffling back and forth nervously. The older heroes couldn’t help but think how cute he looked.

Tony noticed the slight flinch when he’d patted the teen’s shoulder. Cautiously, so Peter could see his movement, he cupped the teen’s face. “Seriously, bud, it’s fine. I’ve been meaning to redecorate anyway.” 

Peter shot him a look that said, _seriously._ He just laughed and steered the teen away from the dilapidated island and into the living room. The others followed suit.

“Y-you said you needed my help?” Peter wrung his hands nervously.

“Yep.” He popped the P. “I’m adding some updates to your old suit, so they match the upgrades on your stealth suit.” He threw the specs from his phone onto a hologram. “What’d ya think?” 

Peter looked over the equations and schematics closely. He increased the heater’s capacity, adjusted the ambient sound suppressors, and raised his web tensile strength. Tony had thought of it all. Despite living with his father for almost a year now, the high tech labs filled to the brim with the newest technology and machinery never ceased to amaze him. Neither did his father’s genius. 

“Wow! This is amazing, dad.” He looked at his dad with his big Bambi eyes, filled with wonder and admiration. “But… for the web grenade, what if we just changed this one calculation?” Peter efficiently corrected two calculations, wrote in a few tweaks to another couple of formulas, and then handed the phone back to his dad.

Tony looked over the new calculations in silence, which only managed to unnerve Peter more. It happened sometimes, Peter correcting his mom’s and dad’s math, but it always made him feel bad. Who was he to correct the great Tony Stark’s math? Or change the scientist’s chemistry formula, who was the pioneer of gamma radiation? 

“Holy shit.” The billionaire mumbled under his breath, shooting a quick glance at his son.

“Sorry.” Peter blurted. “I’m probably wrong and-“

“No, kid, this is ingenious!” Tony praised. “I never would’ve thought to alter the number of polyamides in the nylon. Or to exchange the mineral wool with a miniaturized resonance absorber.” His tone softened; the corners of his lips turned upwards. “And don’t apologize when you correct my mistakes. I’m not perfect, and it’s no secret you’re smarter than me. Now, how ’bout we head to the lab and get crackin’?”

“Yeah!” Peter pumped his fist, quickly getting over his initial fear. “I’ll call Shuri and see about getting some more vibranium.”

“Great idea, bud! Then I could weave vibranium into the fabric of your suit. Or make you one like my Ironman suit!”

“No way! Really?”

Natasha couldn’t help but smile as she watched the two Starks interact. They were indeed two peas in a pod.

**********

The team - except for Rhodey, who was out on military business as War Machine - congregated in the communal kitchen around 5:30. Steve and Natasha had made lasagna, which was a favorite among the heroes.

“Will you pass me the salad, ребенок?” (Baby.) Natasha asked once everyone was settled and had started eating. 

“Конечно мама.” (Sure, momma.) Answering in the spy’s native tongue came easily. He passed off the bowl of leafy greens that were in front of him into his aunt’s waiting hands. 

“Спасибо дорогой.” (Thank you, sweetheart.) She smiled in thanks.   
  


“How are your classes going, Peter?” Steve tried for casual conversation. While Peter’s and his relationship had improved over the past few months, he preferred to tread lightly, especially while Tony was in such close proximity. “I heard you’re at the top of your class.”

A blush crept onto the boy’s cheeks. “I don’t know ’bout that.”

“Oh hush.” Bruce nudged his son’s shoulder with his own.

“Yeah, kid,” Tony chimed in from the opposite side, his mouth full of tasty pasta. “You’re one of the smartest people in this or any universe. Don’t discredit yourself. There’s nothin’ wrong with bein’ a nerd.”

Peter’s blush deepened with all of the praise and attention. “I try um, I try my best.” He smiled genuinely at Steve. “But yeah, my classes are going really well. Thanks for asking.”

“We get it; you’re a big dork.” Sam huffed, though there was no heat to his words. 

It wasn’t uncommon for the Falcon to take jabs at the spider. Their relationship could be correlated to that of two bickering siblings. Although Peter was much more reserved and wasn’t one to stir up trouble, he had no problem defending himself when it came to verbal jousting.

“Don’t listen to him, ребенок паук.” (Baby spider.) The spy leaned over the table a little more, so she was closer to her nephew. “He’s just jealous.” She looked back over to Sam with a disparaging look. “Если я введу слово «идиот» в Google, появится его изображение.” (If I typed the word idiot into google, his picture would pop up.)

“Хорошая, мамочка.” (Good one, momma.) Peter tried to cover up his snickers but failed. “Он такой плотный, свет огибает его.” (He’s so dense, light bends around him.)

Natasha’s shoulders shook with the force of her laughter. The billionaire’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Hold up,” he looked to his son, “she hardly ever loses it like that. What’d ya say?”

Peter repeated the previous conversation between him and his aunt in Italian - a language that both Starks were fluent in due to their shared Italian heritage. Teaching Peter the language was elementary since the kid was so smart, and it had been a joy for the mechanic.

“Holy shit.” He patted his son’s shoulder and grinned. “That was a good one, Pete.”

By now, Sam was well aware that they were talking about him. “What? What did you say?” He looked between his three teammates. “I know y’all are talkin’ shit.”

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. His demeanor was that of an exasperated teacher, tired of repeating himself. “Language.”

************

The rest of the evening passed without incident - team bickering, alien invasions, terrorist attacks, and any updates on Rick included. It was peaceful and calm, which allowed the team to sit back and relax. They had already watched three movies. 

The first was Spies in Disguise - Thor said that Walter looked like Peter from another universe, and Peter said Deadpool would probably agree - and V for Vendetta - which was the entire team’s favorite movie. Treasure Planet was Thor’s favorite because everything about the film reminded him of Asgard and other similar worlds he’d visited.

Friday had just cued up Sandlot, per Clint’s request, when the AI announced Happy’s arrival. The elevator dinged not five minutes later.

“Hey Hap,” Tony greeted his friend as he entered the lounge area. The movie paused. “What brings you here this late in the evening.”

Happy couldn’t help but smile when he saw his Boss - who hated being too close to people and disliked physical contact in general - curled up on the couch, pressed up against his husband with Peter laid out across their laps. He set a stack of papers on the coffee table. “Just dropping off some papers for ya to look over and sign.”

“Wife bossin’ you around?” Clint asked with a smirk. 

“A little.” Happy chuckled. “But Pepper’s way more organized and efficient than I am. Not to mention way better at multitasking. I’d be stupid not to listen.”

Tony laughed and said, “true that. Friday, send a message to Pepper saying thank you and that I’ll go over all the papers tomorrow morning.”

“Of course, Boss.”

“Wanna stay for the rest of the movie?” Steve asked the head of security. “It hasn’t even started yet.”

Happy shook his head. “No, thanks, Cap. I’ve got some of my own paperwork to do.”

Tony sent his husband a mischievous smirk before gently nudging his son into a sitting position and gesturing to Happy, who was still talking to Steve. 

Bruce knew what his husband was doing - it was a card he pulled many times. He was sicing Peter’s adorable cuteness onto an unsuspecting victim. No one could deny Peter, especially when he flashed them his genuinely innocent puppy eyes.

“You can stay, uncle Happy.” He peered up at the large man. “Can’t the papers wait until tomorrow? Please.”

The man’s shoulders slumped. “I-“he glared half-heartedly at the simpering billionaire but turned back to the teen when he felt a small tug on his sleeve.

Peter’s head was tilted to the left, and his hazel eyes sparkled in the light. He could be compared to nothing but a puppy. “Please, uncle Happy.”

“Fine.” The ever stoic bodyguard and head of security plopped down on the floor criss-cross applesauce in front of the couch where the Stark-Banner family was seated.

“Oh, don’t look so upset.” Peter playfully punched his uncle’s shoulder. “If…”

Happy shook his head, trying to deny the cutenesses. “Not that. No.” But Peter continued.

“If you’re happy and you know it…”

“No. Stop.”

The teen just continued to smile, looking at Happy expectantly. With a heavy sigh, he inevitably caved, and with a - barely impassive - frown, Happy clapped his hands together.


	6. Looming over him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter returns to his usual schedule but with Rick’s shadow over him, he’s finding things are a little more difficult.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I based the OC, Valerie Higgins, off of Valerie from V for Vendetta. That is one of the best movies ever and I highly recommend it! And the other OC news anchor, Ron, is just a reference to Will Ferrell’s Ron Burgundy in The Anchorman:)
> 
> We hear a little bit from Rick in this chapter. I hope you all like it!

Peter went back to school on Monday. His wound was completely healed, with only a faint scar remaining. 

Bruce had wanted to keep him home one more day but eventually agreed with his husband to let Peter go back to his regular schedule. Besides, the kid was filled with extra energy - which was a lot considering the kid was very energetic, to begin with. Peter had been bouncing off the walls by Sunday night, quite literally. He’d made a mess in his room after creating a web fort on the ceiling and swinging around like a spider.

So, come Monday, he was safely buckled up in the back seat of one of Tony’s more inconspicuous cars with Happy at the wheel. 

“You seem awfully cheerful for a Monday.” Happy commented while they were stopped at a red light. 

“I’m excited about school.” Peter chirped happily.

“I thought you said school was boring. I mean, you’re going to graduate college and have a job before you even graduate high school.”

“Oh, it’s really boring. But I like to see Ned and MJ. And there are some fun things we do, like academic decathlon.” 

Happy rolled his eyes fondly. He tried to keep up the facade of being annoyed with the teen and uninterested in him, often succeeding. But truth be told, he would willingly die for Peter.

“Are ya gonna have your friends over anytime soon for one of your nerd gatherings?” He pulled off the busy street twenty minutes after starting and into the drop off lane in front of the school. “I’m usually the one carting you kids around, so I gotta know these things.”

Peter scooted out of the car and slung his backpack over his shoulder. “Don’t sound so miffed, uncle Happy.” He said with a smirk. “Remember last Fourth of July when you took MJ, Ned, and I to the park for fireworks? We were singing karaoke in the back, so you put the divider up, but I saw you bobbing your head and laughing.”

Happy remembered that evening very clearly - he did, in fact, jam out to many songs, including MJ’s favorite song, _The Man_ by Taylor Swift. But he chose to ignore that fact and instead said, “I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.” 

Peter just smirked, waved goodbye, and headed up the front steps and disappeared into the school. Happy watched him go, a big, genuine smile on his face. That kid was nearly an exact copy of Tony but with a brilliant spark all his own.

**************

“What’s up, losers?” MJ asked as she set her tray on the table and sat down across from the boys. The cafeteria was filled with constant chatter as lunchtime gave everyone a chance to catch up with their friends.

“The ceiling,” Peter responded with a smirk. He’d already made quick work of his packed lunch, so he pushed his Avengers’ lunch box to the side so he could work on homework.

MJ gave him an unimpressed look before digging into her salad. Her nose scrunched up at the wilted greens. Cafeteria food was not good.

“Are you dorks ready for practice this Thursday?” She asked.

“Yeah, but… Are you sure we need to start decathlon practices this soon, MJ?” Peter finished up the equation for finding the radioactive half-life of iron and began another. “It’s only October third.”

“Yeah,” Ned agreed, “don’t we usually start in December?” 

MJ pushed her half-eaten salad aside and folded her hands on the table. “Last year was rough.” She pointed to Peter, “You weren’t there half the time. And everyone else sucked.” Ned went to protest but snapped his jaw shut when he received a warning glare. “Flash goofed off, Liz moved halfway through the season, and the snowy weather inhibited most of our practice sessions. As captain, I’m getting us started early in case things go to shit.”

“Makes sense.” Ned shrugged, his easy-going nature winning out over any previous feelings of anger. He jumped in excitement when Peter’s phone vibrated, signaling an incoming text message. “Oh my god! Is it Thor? Or Mr. America?”

Ever since Ned found out that his best friend was Spider-Man, he was in perpetual awe. He was constantly asking about the Avengers and always wanted to hear every little detail after missions or patrols. 

Peter couldn’t find it in himself to be mad, though. He appreciated his friend’s enthusiasm and found the sentiment rather endearing.

“No, Ned. It’s just mom.” He typed a response then pocketed his phone. Peter had also set up an avengers group chat months ago. He had all their numbers, so why not? 

“About what?”

“Nosey much?” MJ huffed, her eyes not leaving her book.

“Just letting me know that Happy will be picking me up after school today,” Peter replied without missing a beat. “Dad has a meeting for SI that might run long, so he probably won’t be able to pick me up.”

“How’s Val and her girlfriend?” She still didn’t look up from her book.

“Oh, aunt Hildi is good. She and Helga celebrated their two year anniversary a couple of days ago.” 

Brunhilde - known by most as Valkyrie - was living with the rest of her people in Norway. The Asgardians, along with the pegasi and other alien creatures they’d brought with them, had fully settled in. Loki was a good king, and the United Nations had welcomed them warmly. 

“That’s super cool.” Ned smiled. “Do you think I can get their autographs?”

*************

When Peter got home, he went about his usual routine, head up to the penthouse, grab a big snack, and start working on any homework he might have. If he hadn’t finished it already. He’d then train or work in his lab or his dad’s lab, eat dinner, and then patrol from 7:00 to 12:00. 

He ate quietly for about five minutes until his parents came up to greet him like they always did when he came home from school. 

“Hey, Peter. How was your day?” Bruce walked over to his son eagerly and threw his arms around the teen. He squeezed him tightly and rested his chin on top of Peter’s head. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too.” Peter returned the hug easily. He smiled. “My day was okay. Boring, as usual. How about you?”

“Oh, it was fine. I worked in my lab for a bit. Helped your dad get some paperwork done.” 

Peter grimaced. “Paperwork, huh? Was there as much as last time?” 

Bruce would occasionally help Tony with SI paperwork. The scientist was more organized and methodical than his mechanic counterpart. Plus, Tony hated doing any office work, so having help made it slightly better.

“No.” Bruce huffed. “But there was still so much! There were five stacks! Each one was at least a foot high! Five stacks!”

“Are you tattling, honey bear?” Tony snarked. He stepped into the kitchen from the direction of the elevator. That, accompanied by his grease-stained shirt, affirmed Peter’s suspicion that he’d escaped to his lab. “Hey, Underoos.” His arms replaced Bruce’s.

“Hey, dad.” Peter snuggled closer, his skinny arms reaching around his dad’s neck. “Did mom boss you all around?”

“Yes.” Tony deadpanned.

“Is it a training day or a lab day?” Peter asked.

“Nat’s down in the gym. She wants to do some training and work on your German. If there’s time before dinner, then just head up to my lab.” He ruffled Peter’s hair when he got up to rinse his dish. 

“Is uncle Rhodey still in DC?”

“Yep.” He popped the P in emphasis. “Should be coming to visit soon, though.”

“Okay.” Peter grabbed his backpack. “I’m going to change. See ya later.” He waved to his parents before sprinting back down the hall towards the bedrooms. The older heroes loving eyes trailed him.

***********

Peter’s fist softly hit the center of the focus mitt that Natasha was waving around, testing his reflexes and reaction time. They were moving throughout the gym at a fast pace, swerving in between the exercise machines, free weights, and combat rings. 

Natasha would shout out random words and sentences as they moved, and then Peter would repeat them back in German. He was now fluent in four languages, not counting ASL and Morse code.

“Hello.”

“Hallo.”

“Who are you?”

“Wer bist du?”

“I am going to the store.”

“Ich gehe zum Laden.”

“Stop.”

“Halt.”

Natasha lowered her hands and signaled for Peter to stand down. She tossed the focus mitts aside and headed over to the mini-fridge near the wrestling mat. She threw a water bottle to Peter then grabbed one for herself. “You did well.” She said after taking a long drink. “With your hits and German.”

“Thanks, aunt Tasha.” He gulped down half the bottle. “I learned from the best.”

“Aw. Мальчик.” (Baby boy.) She rubbed her thumb across Peter’s cheekbone and crooned when he leaned into her touch. “Так мило.” (So sweet.) 

“Do you think it’ll help?” He asked with uncertainty.

Last week, Peter had asked his aunt to teach him German - he’d become fluent in less than one week - because he liked to learn new things and because Natasha was such a good teacher. But mostly it was to make Bucky feel more comfortable. He knew his dad wasn’t too fond of the man, and simply adjusting to life at the tower was likely to be tough. So he hoped that learning the language the Winter Soldier was most familiar with would make things a tiny bit easier.

“I do. It’s something he’ll be more comfortable with, I think. More familiar.”

“Cool… cool.” Peter nodded, fiddling with the bottle in his hands, causing the plastic to crinkle. His eyes were locked on the cement floor. “Is- I was wondering if… I just…” He couldn’t seem to formulate the correct words, his tongue tied up in knots.

“There’s no news on Rick,” Natasha spoke softly. 

As much as Rick’s release had upset her and the team, Natasha couldn’t begin to understand how Peter felt. But she could see it, especially over the past two months. Like the way, his usually bright and cheerful smiles failed to reach his eyes and how his anxiety spiked more often and for lesser reasons, which negatively affected his eating and sleeping. Other habits he’d formed from a lifetime of abuse also began to resurface. Things he hadn’t done for a long time.

Bruce nearly cried when the teen flinched away from him because he hadn’t been in Peter’s direct line of sight. Clint spent over three hours beating the punching bag after he’d witnessed the kid having one of his increasing night terrors. Just a couple of days ago, Tony had gone looking for the kid since he hadn’t shown up for breakfast. He found Peter under his bed, curled up into the tightest ball possible, mumbling to himself. Tony was at a loss for words.

She pulled her nephew into a side hug and kissed his forehead - not caring how sweaty they both were. Physical affection always calmed Peter. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll always be here to protect you.”

***********

After training, Peter took a nice long shower, savoring the way the hot water glided over his skin and soothed his tense muscles. He normally only stayed in for about fifteen minutes but decided to stay in a little longer this time. Thirty minutes later, he got out, dried off, and changed into his favorite pair of sweatpants and the MIT hoodie he’d borrowed from his dad.

“Friday, do you know where mom and dad are?” Peter asked once he’d entered the elevator. 

“Boss and Dr. Banner are both on floor eighty-six in the communal living room.” Intuitively, she took the elevator to that floor. “The rest of the team is with them.”

_That’s a little odd,_ Peter thought. 

Sure, the team often did congregate on the communal floor, especially around mealtimes. But it was nearly 6:00, and Steve - who usually cooked - would be in the kitchen finishing dinner. Tony and Bruce tended to stay in their labs until Friday notified them that the food was ready and the others - while they occasionally helped prep and set the table - would often be on their own respective floors attending to whatever private business they might have. 

The weekends were everyone’s lazy days, not so much the weekdays. So the fact that they were all together, doing nothing, was a tiny bit concerning.

Besides, he had a bad feeling coiled up in the pit of his stomach. His spider-sense hadn’t alerted him to any immediate danger, but that didn’t mean something bad wasn’t going to happen in the coming future. He’d always been very intuitive, and his luck never seemed to last.

“I’m here with Valerie Higgins, who was recently saved by the famous vigilante Spider-Man.”

Peter stopped mid-step. He recognized the voice of Miss Brown, a journalist he’d often seen on tv when Natasha turned on the news. 

Quietly, so no one would know he was there, Peter leaped up onto the ceiling and crawled to the living room entrance. He stayed hidden in the archway but had a clear view of the tv. His entire family was sitting around the flatscreen, watching intently.

“Could you please tell us what happened?” Miss Brown held the microphone to a young woman standing beside her. She was dressed in plain jeans and a deep blue sweater, her complexion was fair, and she had curly brown hair. A large diamond ring encircled her left ring finger.

“I was walking home from the grocery store when a man tried to attack me.” She brushed some loose strands behind her ear and nibbled at her bottom lip. “I- it was terrifying. I didn’t know…” Her fists clenched and unclenched repeatedly as she blew out a long drawn out-breath. “I don’t know what he wanted to do to me, though I can imagine what. But I was sure that I was going to die. Then,” a huge smile grew on her lips, “Spider-Man swooped down, and… he saved me. He took the hit that was meant for me.” A few tears slipped down her cheeks, and she looked straight at the camera. “I’m so grateful. My wife and I support you, Spider-Man, and we can’t thank you enough.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Higgins.” Miss Brown gave Valerie a genuine smile before turning back to the camera. “While most civilians rely on the web-slinging vigilante and are grateful for his brave heroics… some officials don’t feel the same way.”

The scene switched to the front of the Forest Hills police department. There were reporters snapping pictures as they talked over each other, frantically trying to gain attention. There was a podium set up with multiple police officers lined up to either side of it. Behind the podium was Queens freshly released police chief.

“Hello, everyone. I appreciate you taking the time to attend this public debriefing.” 

Rick’s sickly sweet tone and charming smile made Peter want to gag. The man had always been good at deceiving people, particularly the public, who only knew him to be a good police officer.

“It has come to my attention that the vigilante known as Spider-Man has been interfering in police affairs. He is not under police jurisdiction; therefore, he’s working outside of the law. And the identity of this extremely powerful mutant is still unknown. He is a vigilante. Therefore, he is considered a threat.” 

The crowd of civilians and reporters erupted into - mostly - embittered shouts and cries. Rick held up his hand for silence, and the crowd obeyed. 

“As of now, no action will be taken to apprehend Spider-Man. But the police officers of Forest Hills and many other precincts within Queens will be monitoring him closely.”

The scene switched back to a concerned looking Miss Brown. She quickly shook herself out of her stupor before turning back to the camera. “There you have it. Police are not moving forward as of yet. But who knows if or when that will change? Back to you, Ron.”

Steve shut the tv off and tossed the remote down. Perhaps he threw it a bit harder than necessary, as the back came off on impact, and the batters slid across the floor with enough force to scratch the wood. His other teammates looked equally perturbed. No one said anything for a few minutes as the atmosphere became thick with the mounting tension. 

Clint broke the silence. “This just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”

“Tell me about it.” Sam agreed. He slumped further back against the sofa, his brows pinched in thought and frustration. “It’s kinda hard to get a read on this guy if I’m being honest. Like… he gives off bad vibes, but he still manages to look and sound normal. Good even.”

Tony couldn’t stay put any longer; the need to be with his son overpowering everything else he was feeling. He released his tight hold on Bruce’s hand and stood. “I- I’m gonna go get Pe- oh.” He turned around to see Peter hovering in the doorway. “Hey, bud.”

Peter averted his gaze and fidgeted with the hem of his left sleeve. He seemed hesitant. His body language could be equated to that of a skittish fawn, not knowing if it should hide or flee. The pitiful looks on his other family members’ faces made him feel sick. They looked concerned and lost. The mighty Avengers never looked that way.

“Will you station a suit at Ned’s home, and one at MJ’s?” He spoke so quietly Tony had to strain to hear him. 

“Of course. That’s no problem.” He assured, trying to sound as calm and reassuring as he possibly could.

The teen backed up a few steps. “Um… I’m uh, just going to go to my room for a while.”

“Dinner is almost ready,” Steve mentioned. He didn’t want Peter to hole up in seclusion. “Maybe you could stay? Just for a little?” He tried to come off as friendly yet stern but ended up sounding more desperate than anything.

Offering a weak smile, Peter said, “no thanks, Mr. Rogers.” Before disappearing around the corner.

Tony bit his lip and fought the incessant urge to grab his son and hug him, cover him with a bunch of warm blankets, get some hot cocoa, and snuggle close while watching whatever dorky movie the kid loved best. He wanted, no needed, to be close to his son.

But he stayed put because he knew that right now Peter needed some space and time to think.


	7. Uncomfortable conversations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tony’s feeling stressed and overwhelmed by Rick’s increasing presence and the Winter Soldier’s close arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My next update, on the 27th, won’t be for this story. So I’m sorry for that ahead of time. It’ll be part 6 of my saving and raising a spider series. It’s mostly crack so I’m really hoping it’ll be enjoyable.
> 
> Towards the end of this chapter, there’s some info on bipolar disorder and RAD. It’s just a basic summary of each and possible symptoms that may affect someone. Nothing too extensive. There’s also a mention of homophobia during Peter’s decathlon practice.
> 
> If any of that might bother you, please don’t read! I really don’t want to trigger anyone.

The drones were a complete success, which didn’t surprise Tony in the slightest. Anything that came out of Stark industries was top notch. Mr. Clearwater had just left a lengthy voicemail, eagerly explaining how many lives were being saved and how the number of criminals being apprehended had increased by thirty percent already.

The clean energy program - another side project Tony had integrated into Stark Industries long ago - had also been doing equally well. The newest project was capturing solar energy. 

Tony, Peter, and many SI scientists had been working to improve solar panels. They made them out of a more durable crystalline silicon that could be made to look like stone, cement, glass, wood, or roofing shingles. They worked in any climate and were inexpensive to manufacture and install. 

Bruce and Peter had even created lunar panels. They were like solar panels, but they captured light energy given off from the moon. Nearly every country worldwide was integrating both types of clean energy panels into their homes, cities, and businesses. 

The environment was becoming healthier with the help of new eco-friendly laws and conservation. But two billion people use up a lot of energy. So it might as well be clean, reusable energy. Good thing Stark Industries was way ahead of the game and always would be.

But neither of these victories did anything to improve the billionaire’s mood. His son’s abuser was free and clearly had a vendetta against Spider-Man, a.k.a Peter. 

“How are you feeling?” Bruce took a seat on the stool next to his husband. He set a large glass of ice-cold apple juice in front of the mechanic. “You’ve been down here since Peter left for school.” He checked his watch. “And... he’ll be home in fifteen minutes. Happy just texted me.”

Tony shrugged indifferently. He kept staring at the deconstructed black widow bites in front of him, tiny wires and tools scattered across the table. Tinkering and building kept his mind busy. It was a way for him to escape when too many bad things were happening.

“Have you eaten anything today?” Concern seeped through the scientist’s voice. Bruce took one of his husband’s rough, calloused hands and held it to his chest. “Honey?”

“No,” Tony sighed, “I’ve just-“he waved his free hand around his lab, gesturing to nothing specific, “been busy.”

“I know you’re upset.” Bruce stood up and hugged Tony from behind. “But please,” he nuzzled his nose into the mechanic’s dark curls, “please take care of yourself. You know Peter would be telling you the same thing.” 

He leaned back against Bruce’s soft body, enjoying his warmth and taking in the familiar scent of his cologne. “I know. I’m sorry, babe.” 

“You know Peter models off of you and your actions. If you don’t take care of yourself, he won’t take care of himself either.” 

“Yeah.” Heat was slowly building behind the billionaire’s eyes, and he quickly turned away. “I’m just- there’s so much going on and… Peter’s stuck in the middle.”

“I know.” Bruce nodded. He understood what Tony was feeling. “But we need to be rational, okay?” He caressed Tony’s face, gently rubbing his thumbs across his cheeks, just below the dark rings under his eyes. “I’m here for you. Always. Just tell Friday, and I’ll come.” There was nothing but pure love and concern in his voice. “Please, sweetheart. I love you, and I’ll always be here for you.”

Tony didn’t say anything, unable to trust his own voice, and fell back into Bruce’s loving embrace.

*********

Rick grabbed a fist full of Peter’s hair and yanked him out from under his bed, harshly pulling his head back, so the bones in his neck popped. He grabbed the teen by the neck and pinned him on the cold hardwood floor after he attempted to crawl away.

Desperately, Peter scratched at the large hands encircling his neck in an attempt to gain purchase. Between the fear and pressure crushing his windpipe, he was gasping for breath.

Risking a glance, his wide eyes darted up briefly. Rick was glaring down at him with nothing but pure rage on his face. 

Peter knew he could easily overpower the man. But he’d never fought back in the past, and even if he wanted to, he was too afraid to move. His muscles were locked, and he felt lightheaded as breathing became increasingly difficult.

“I’m going to kill you,” Rick growled. “Then I’ll kill your friends and that arrogant prick Tony Stark. I may not be some mutant freak with unnatural powers, but I’ll get things done all the same.” His hands tightened even more. “And it will be all your fault.” He smiled when Peter’s eyes began to glisten with unshed tears. “So, what’re ya going to do about it P-“

“-eter! Pe-bud!” Tony approached the writhing teen, wary of touching him because of his immense strength. He knew Peter would never intentionally hurt him, but he had the potential to lash out while experiencing one of his nightmares or night terrors. “Damn it!” 

Both parents jumped back when the side table crashed to the floor, spilling its contents. Peter had lashed out and grabbed the leg, crushing it instantly. Quiet whimpering escaped him, and he curled in on himself once more.

“That’s it. Friday, call Mark XXXII.” Mark thirty-three had no weapons and vibranium woven into the titanium alloy frame. It was safe and effective in restraining Peter.

“Of course, Boss.” Friday obeyed immediately. The sound of muted thrusters could be heard seconds later as the automated suit traveled from Tony’s lab up to the penthouse. As soon as it arrived, Bruce stepped back while Tony climbed in, letting the armor mold to his form.

With the extra protection and added strength, Tony approached his son. He rested one hand on Peter’s shoulder and the other against his thin chest, feeling the rapid movement of his chest as he began to hyperventilate. 

Loudly, he yelled, “wake up! Peter, wake up now!” 

Peter jolted awake and blindly threw a fist that Tony barely managed to avoid. He went to throw another hit, but Tony grabbed both his wrists to keep him from hitting anything else, which in turn made Peter freak out even more.

“Underoos. It’s me!” Tony let the faceplate retract so Peter could see him. “It’s dad.”

“D-dad?” Peter’s hazel eyes met his dad’s identical ones, and he relaxed immediately. “I- sorry, but… he was- I was alone and…”

“You’re not alone, sweetheart.” Bruce knelt beside his husband, so he was also in Peter’s line of sight. “We’re here. No one else.”

“I know.” Guilt hit Peter hard as the realization that he’d disturbed his parent’s sleep, again, washed over him. “Sorry to bo-“

“Don’t you dare finish that apology, young man.” Tony chastised playfully, placing a kiss on Peter’s pale cheek. “You’re too nice.”

“What time s’it?” Peter looked around blearily. The only thought going through his head was, _why am I on the floor?_ He remembered finishing up patrol around 2:15, checking in with Friday, then going to bed. 

“It’s nearly 4:10.” Bruce pulled his sleeve back and checked his watch. “Still pretty early.”

With his dad’s help, Peter pulled himself up off the floor and back onto his bed. He leaned back against the headboard sitting criss-cross applesauce. His mom to his right and dad on his left. Mark thirty-three retreated to it’s designated spot in Tony’s lab, leaving the Stark-Banner family alone.

“Do you… wanna talk about it?” Bruce asked hesitantly after the silence had carried for - what he felt was - too long.

“Not really. But I guess I should.” Peter chuckled nervously. “Shouldn’t I?”

Tony draped his arm across the teen’s narrow shoulders. “We won’t force you. But…” he trailed off. His way of answering the previous question and indicating that Peter should continue.

“Rick was here. He had me pinned on the floor and said he was going to kill everyone.” Peter huffed out in one breath. “Honestly… that’s… basically it.”

“Who’s everyone?” Bruce ventured. Although he already knew he wouldn’t like the answer. His larger hand encircled Peter’s smaller one.

“Let me guess,” Tony counted on his fingers, “Me, Bruce, MJ, Ned, and anyone else remotely close to you.” He dropped his hands back onto his lap. “That sum it up?” 

Peter nodded sadly, his eyes downcast. The two parents shared a knowing look above the teen’s head.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about your friends. Multiple suits are guarding them at all times.” 

“And we’re the Avengers.” Tony gestured to his husband and to himself. “We can handle ourselves. Besides, he’d be a complete dumb-ass to try anything against earth’s mightiest heroes.”

“I know! But I still worry.” Peter turned around to face his parents. “It was always so crazy with them. Like I couldn’t- I never knew what to expect! May was either furious with me, or she completely ignored me! Either way, she was practically emotionless. Rick was always mean. But he was methodical and sneaky.” Tears began to gather in his eyes. “You don’t know what he’s capable of!”

“Hey, hey, calm down, bud.” The mechanic instinctively wrapped his arms around Peter’s small body and pulled him onto his lap. Bruce scooted closer and rested his hand on Peter’s back, rubbing soothing circles up and down the bumps of his spine. “Just take a breath. I know you’re worried about your friends and family, but I promise you, nothing bad will happen to Ned or MJ or any of us. Nothing’s going to happen to you either.”

Peter wanted to believe him; he really did. But his deep-seeded fear of Rick always seemed to win out.

*************

“That is correct! Good job, Peter.” MJ praised. She shuffled the massive deck of flashcards in her hands and selected another at random. “What year was Tesla born?”

“July tenth, 1856.” Once again, Peter answered correctly. He rarely ever skipped a question, and it was even rarer that he got one wrong. Peter was by far the smartest kid at Midtown tech - he never bragged, though. The kid was as humble as they came.

“Correct again.” MJ flashed her boyfriend a barely noticeable smile. Despite Flash’s accusations, she did not play favorites - but was always pleased when Peter did well. “When did Einstein-“

“Wait a second.” Flash slapped his palm against the table, jostling the table everyone was seated at. Susan Yang glared at him when her soda spilled. His voice echoed in the empty room. “You gave him an easy one! You always do.”

Abe grumbled under his breath, “not this again.”

“Oh shut up, Abe!” Mike immediately went to Flash’s aid. Mike didn’t like Peter either and always took the opportunity to bully him. “You’re just like everyone else on this team, oblivious.”

“Holy shit. This never ends.” Charles whispered into Zach’s ear. “Fifth time this month.”

Decathlon practice was most often held in the auditorium since the room was empty after school hours, and there was ample room. There were a couple of fold-out tables, a stage, and some random podiums for them to practice mock contests on. But since the auditorium was being cleaned, practice was being held in the library for the time being. And while the library was quite spacious, it still didn’t compare to the much larger auditorium. 

And with strict orders from Mr. Harrington to not ruin the new carpet or knock over any bookshelves, the team was squashed together in the back corner with no room to spread out. Frustrations were still a little high because of the extra early start of practices - mostly because Flash and his equally annoying friend Mike had somehow made the team again. But being confined to the library for the next four weeks hadn’t been pleasant news. So when Flash tried to pick yet another fight with the team’s strongest player, tempers went through the roof.

“You’re cheating, Parker!” Flash pointed at the smaller teen across from him, spit flying as he yelled. “Just admit it.”

“I’m not cheating, Flash.” Peter was more exasperated than anything. Flash and his group of cronies had been bullying Peter day in and day out ever since the first grade. And while it did hurt sometimes, it was just annoying more often than not. After all, he’d been through much worse. “Can we please just get through practice, please?”

“Yeah. Then we can go home.” Charles leaned back in his chair and checked his watch. “My dad’s making lasagna tonight, and I’d rather eat it while it’s hot.”

“Which one? You have two dads. And I-“

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Bluebird cut Mike off, knowing full well he was about to say something homophobic. She was openly bisexual, and Peter was openly asexual. Mike made fun of both of them.

“Never mind that.” Flash scuffed. “You guys always ignore me!”

“That’s ’cause you’re full of it.” Ned snapped. “How many times do we need to have this conversation? Just accept that you’re jealous because Peter’s better than you!”

Flash’s mouth fell open, Peter’s eyes widened, and the other students had to stifle their laughter. It wasn’t often that Ned became confrontational or got angry with someone. He was very easy going by nature. But everyone had their limits.

“I think that settles it,” MJ said, sounding as indifferent as always. She paused, her eyes going to Flash and Mike, daring them to speak. When they didn’t, she held up another card. “Who is considered the father of genetics?”

**********

While the rest of the team was going through a routine training exercise, Tony had holed up in his lab. He neglected to tell Bruce exactly how long he’d been there - almost four hours. But his main concern was keeping Peter preoccupied. And training with the team was a great way to do that.

He was researching Bipolar disorders and Reactive attachment disorders with Friday’s help and was getting surprisingly good results. Some of the puzzle pieces were falling into place.

Friday broke the silence. “Boss, I am reminding you that you wanted to speak with the Captain this afternoon.” 

“Oh, oh yeah.” He was not looking forward to this conversation. “Tell him to come up. I’m here, so it’s fine.”

“Right away, Boss.”

Tony scrolled through one of the medical websites he found earlier. He bookmarked the most informational sites but wrote down notes for himself. He had multiple pages filled already. The rest of the team would need to be filled in, but he figured he could call a meeting when Peter was at school.

Bipolar disorder was most often characterized as a condition that featured extreme mood shifts and fluctuations in energy, which affected activity levels. People with bipolar disorder experience severe bouts of depression, mania, and euphoria that could last for months or even years. Some people might even experience hallucinations. They might feel ‘wired’ or think that they can do anything. Being easily irritated and not being able to remember things were a few common symptoms.

Reactive attachment disorder - otherwise known as RAD - was a different disease entirely. It could lead to behavioral problems, difficulty managing anger, and a lack of empathy in adults. Someone with RAD would be more likely to lash out at family members violently and would be unable to maintain a healthy relationship, be it romantic or not. Increased anger and irritation were also common.

Some of the symptoms from these two conditions - but especially RAD - matched Peter’s information about his aunt two nights prior. And if May did have a mental disorder that was never diagnosed correctly or if she ignored her illness or simply couldn’t afford medication, then that could’ve been the reason she got so few years in jail time. It might even have had something to do with Rick walking free. 

Tony scribbled down a few more notes before slamming his notebook shut and tossing the pen aside. He definitely needed to share his thoughts with the team so they could investigate further. Peter would be willing to share more if it meant getting Rick back in prison.

The glass, grenade-proof doors of the lab slid open, and Steve walked in. His hair was disheveled, and his grey tank had dark sweat splotches running down his broad chest and down his back. 

“Friday said you wanted to see me.” He stopped ten feet into the room, which left him nearly fifteen feet away from Tony or anything else he could accidentally break. There was a lot of expensive-looking tech in there that he couldn’t imagine what their purpose might be. 

“Yeah. I do.” Tony stood abruptly, leaving his chair spinning as he met the Captain the remainder of the way.

Steve could only describe Tony’s demeanor as that of a tiger stalking its prey; shoulders squared and defenses up. Ready and willing to attack at a moment’s notice.

“A little while ago,” he spoke in short, clipped sentences, “I got word from T’Challa. He said that Barnes is ready to come back.”

“Well, that’s great!” Steve couldn’t help the happy outburst. “When will he get here-” he cut himself off, realizing how insensitive he was being. 

“He’ll come back when I say so.” Tony tapped his chest, where the arc reactor used to be, with his index finger emphasizing the power he held. That the decision of Bucky returning was his and his alone.

The mechanic stalked closer, so he was mere inches away from Steve. The super-soldier fought to keep still, squirming uncomfortably under the billionaire’s harsh gaze.   
  


“If your buddy, Barnes, hurts Peter, or so much as looks at my kid the wrong way,” his voice dropped to a low growl, “he is gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like this story/chapter please leave a kudos or a comment! I love to hear what you think, it means a lot to me!


	8. Making friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the Winter soldier’s terrifying persona and deadly abilities it wasn’t a big surprise to the Avengers that Peter, unknowingly, had the ex-assassin wrapped around his little finger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bucky Barnes returns! Cue up the drama and fluff:)
> 
> Also, heads up. I am not good at writing sex scenes. Putting that out there now.  
> I’m an asexual that’s completely sex-repulsed. I’ve also never been in a relationship. So I basically go off of other books/fics I’ve read. I'm sorry if those scenes are cringe-worthy:)
> 
> I know in most universes Bruce can’t have sex because of the Hulk. But in my universe he and Tony are able to have a tiny bit of fun and those interactions are mostly for comedic purposes.

It had been one week since Rick’s public statement, telling all of New York that the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man was a suspicious character the police were going to be monitoring. So far, though, no incidents between the police and the aforementioned vigilante had taken place. Because of that, Peter continued to patrol as normal - much to his parents and team’s discord. But so long as the teen was careful and tried to lie low, they were okay with it. 

Peter knew that, eventually, he would have to halt his nightly patrols all together. At least until things with the police simmered down and the questions revolving around Rick were settled. Even then - whether he patrolled or not - he could train and assist the team on missions like he always did. But he’d try to patrol for as long as he could. 

Right now, though, everyone’s attention was on one thing and one thing only. Bucky Barnes. 

The entire team had congregated to floor eighty-six and were waiting patiently in the living room. It was a Saturday, so Peter was home, waiting - not so patiently - with the rest of his team. His leg bounced a mile-a-minute, and he was continually looking between the elevator in the hall and his dad seated next to him. The teen was eager to meet the ex-assassin turned hero, but he was nervous for his dad.

“Sergeant Barnes and Mr. Hogan have arrived.” Friday gave them a heads up per the billionaire’s request. The elevator doors opened with a quiet _ping_ , and both men stepped out.

Happy - though incredibly wary of the super-soldier - had agreed to meet Bucky after Wakanda’s escorts had dropped him off. The head of security monitored Bucky closely but did his best to be polite. He explained the basics of the tower and who all lived there.

“This is one of the common rooms.” Happy gestured to the spacious living area. “The team hangs out here the most. If you need anything, just ask Friday. She’s Tony’s AI.” 

Bucky looked around, uncertain of what to say or how to act. So he just nodded.

“Thanks, Hap.” Tony cut the one-sided conversation short. “We’ll take it from here.” He gave his friend a curt nod in dismissal. After the elevator closed, he continued, his eyes falling to Bucky. 

“I take it Happy gave you a rundown of the tower.” Bucky nodded. “Told you all the rules.” Bucky nodded again. “Good, less I have to do.” He gestured to the other super-soldier. “You’ll be sharing a floor with Rogers. He can give you an official tour once we’re done here.” 

“How about I give him the tour first?” Steve suggested, knowing Tony would bombard Bucky with information and intimidate him until his brain overloaded. “We can all eat dinner together and formally introduce everyone later. I mean, the only person he doesn’t really know is Peter.”

“H-hi, er uh, hallo. (Hello.).” Peter waved nervously at the intimidating soldier from beside his dad. “It’s nice to- oh my god!” His eyes visibly widened when he noticed the prosthetic arm Bucky had pulled behind his back in an attempt to conceal it. “You have a metal arm! Is it vibranium? That’s awesome and- oh, um so-sorry.” He covered his mouth with his hands. “I didn’t mean to be rude.” At first, he thought Bucky would get angry, but the man smiled instead, a fond glint in his eyes the teen couldn’t recognize.

Steve pulled his old comrade behind him. “We can all talk later. Thor and Loki aren’t here right now, either. Besides, didn’t you say Rhodey would be returning today?” 

“I did.” Tony crossed his arms over his chest, thinking the Captain’s words over. “Rhodey arrives at 5:00, so we’ll eat at 5:30. I’ll have Friday order takeout, so no one has to cook.” He turned back to Bucky, eyes hard. “Friday is always watching, and she will notify me if any rules are broken.”

“I’m not going to go crazy, Stark.” That was the first time Bucky had spoken since arriving in New York. His voice was gruff and deep.

Tony only smirked. “Well, I think we’ll just have to wait and see. Won’t we?”

**********

The tour took a lot longer than Bucky had expected. Stark Tower was absolutely massive; ninety-three floors filled with labs, business rooms, offices, training rooms, and anything else the Avengers might need. He knew of Tony’s limitless wealth, immense power, and strong influence. But it was another thing to see it himself. As the Winter soldier, his mind had been clouded, and he was unable to accurately perceive anything for himself.

“Why don’t you wait in the living room,” Steve had said once they’d completed the tour and arrived back on the common floor from that morning, “I’m going to make us something for lunch.” It’d been over three hours since they’d last eaten, so they were starving, both being enhanced.

Bucky made his way into the spacious, open-concept room. The amount of natural light streaming into the room reminded him of the Wakanda palace. Both Wakanda and Avengers tower were lit up and welcoming. So very different from any HYDRA facility.

“Oh, hello!” 

Bucky startled from his thoughts when he heard the voice of a child. He looked around the room in search of the new voice but saw no one.

“Up here.” Peter smiled and waved once Bucky found him sitting upside down on the ceiling. A plate filled with peanut butter sandwiches was hanging next to him, his webs keeping the sides level so the food wouldn’t fall off.

“What the fuck?” He looked up at the teen in awe. “How- what are you-“

Peter chuckled. “I’m Spider-Man.” He released his sticky hold on the ceiling and let himself fall, completing two backflips before landing silently on his feet in front of Bucky. “My real name is Peter Stark-Banner. Möchten Sie lieber ich spreche auf Deutsch? Ich war mir nicht sicher, wie gut Sie mit Englisch umgehen können oder ob Sie sich mit einer anderen Sprache wohler fühlen.” (Would you prefer I speak in German? I wasn’t sure how familiar you were with English, or if you felt more comfortable with another language.) 

Bucky smiled at the thoughtful gesture. “English is fine, kid.” 

A blush crept onto his cheeks as he recalled his geek-out earlier. “Sorry for geeking out earlier.” He held out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Barnes, Winter soldier, White wolf sir.”

“I- um… you too.” Bucky mumbled, returning the welcoming gesture. He took the kid in, noting his extremely thin frame and small features. He largely resembled Tony. But he couldn’t deny the strong, nostalgic feeling that budded within him when he looked at the kid. His physique and attitude held a strong resemblance to Steve’s before he got the serum. “You can call me Bucky.”

“Oh. Sorry, Mr. Bucky Barnes, Winter soldier, White wol-“

“No, kid,” Bucky laughed, “just Bucky.”

“Oh. Okay, Mr. Bucky.” 

Bucky shook his head, grinning widely. “How old are you, twelve?”

“I’m fifteen.” Peter huffed, his arms crossed. “But who’re you to judge? You’re a senior citizen.”

_He’s definitely Stark’s kid._ Bucky thought, his grin not falling. “Okay, pipsqueak.” He watched the teen crawl up the wall back to his original perch. “You can stick to stuff?”

Peter nodded, his second-last sandwich half-eaten in his hand. “Yeah, it’s part of the whole spider thing.” He wiggled his toes. “Comes in handy. Not the weirdest thing I can do. Hibernating isn’t very helpful.”

“What?”

“Don’t worry. I’m only at risk of hibernation if I get really cold.” He dropped down from the ceiling, empty plate in hand. “I’m gonna go eat lunch. Can I get you anything.”

“But you just ate a whole bunch of sandwiches.” The kid was as thin as a twig. How could he be the famed mutant vigilant Shuri had boasted to him about?

He shrugged. “Extremely enhanced metabolism is one of my many powers. Aren’t you enhanced, like Mr. Rogers? You must be hungry too.”

“Steve’s making something for lunch now.” He nodded towards the kitchen. “He told me to wait in here.”

A sly smile grew on Peter’s lips as he eyed the large television and gaming station. “How ’bout I teach you how to play Mario kart?”

“Mario? Is that one of those computer games?”

Peter’s smile only grew. “Oh boy, are you about to find out.”

Ten minutes later, when Steve went to call Bucky for lunch, he found his friend sitting criss-cross applesauce in front of the tv with Peter hanging from a web above him. They were simultaneously cheering each other on while also screaming and calling names in an attempt to get the other to slip up. Both laughing like madmen.

***********

“Friday, tell mom and dad that I’m in the kitchen if they need me,” Peter told the AI as he pulled three cookie sheets from the cabinet beside the oven. 

“Boss wishes to know which kitchen you are referring to.” Friday’s soft Irish voice responded.

“The communal kitchen on eighty-six.” There was a kitchen on each of the avenger’s floors, both communal floors and in the penthouse. Peter generally retreated to the penthouse during his free time. “I’m making cookies for everyone.” He smiled up at the camera hidden in the corner of the room.

“Dr. Banner and Boss said to be careful. And to notify them once the cookies are ready, so they get first pick.” Peter was sure Friday would be laughing if she could. You could hear the smile in her voice. 

“Hahaha. Will do.” He started pulling ingredients from different cabinets and set them on the - brand new - kitchen island. “Friday, will you please start my baking playlist?” He grinned when Glory by the Score started to play from some of Friday’s speakers.

Baking was one of the few things outside of hero work and lab work that actually help soothe Peter’s anxiety. He needed to keep his mind busy constantly in order to distract himself, or the more sinister thoughts would penetrate through all the static. Science was his expertise, and baking was technically a science. Baking also allowed him to do something nice for his family. Who wouldn’t like a batch of gooey cookies or fudge brownies after a hard day of hero work?

It took Peter a long time to fully accept - and even longer to say it out loud - that he suffered from depression, social anxiety, low self-esteem, and had some attachment issues. He knew he had these things; with how terrible his life had been, he would’ve been worried if there wasn’t any emotional scarring. But he chose to ignore them because then he wouldn’t bother anyone else and he himself didn’t have to deal with them. 

He put his feelings on the back burner, so to speak. They just made his horrendous life even more difficult. He hurt more because of it, but that didn’t matter because he’d stopped caring about himself years ago. If he ever did to begin with.

But Tony - Bruce and Natasha shortly after - quickly picked up on the teenager’s depressive episodes and did all they could to get him through them. Seeing Peter go through panic attacks and struggle to pull himself out of bed physically hurt the older heroes. Medicine didn’t work with his metabolism, but therapy was a close substitution. And as much as Peter hated therapy, he was grateful his parents cared so much about him. He’d never had anyone to rely on growing up.

“I didn’t know you liked to bake.” Peter stopped mixing and looked up to see Bucky leaning against the doorframe. He was wearing plain grey sweatpants, and a loose t-shirt hung around his muscular frame, his hair was pulled back into a man bun. He pushed off the wood frame with his hip and sauntered over to the island, eyeing the two bowls filled with batter. “There’s enough batter here to feed an entire army.”

“Yeah, well,” Peter scratched the back of his neck and chuckled. “We go through food pretty quickly here. And everyone likes my peanut butter cookies.”

“Peanut butter cookies are the superior cookie.” The elder hero agreed. He watched Peter scoop out the cookie mix and line the little mounds up on a greased cookie sheet. “Ya need any help?”

“No thanks, Mr. Bucky. But I wouldn’t mind your company.”

The soldier smiled fondly at the young boy he already saw as his little brother. “You know… before the war, I used to cook and bake for Stevie all the time.”

“Really.” He stuck three of the six trays in the preheated oven.

“Yep. I learned how to cook and bake when I was young.” Bucky’s eyes took on a faraway look as he recalled his life before the war. “But it became more of a daily practice once Steve’s Ma passed away. Steve was sick most of the time, and he couldn’t do much for himself. I was a good fighter, and I defended him. Lots of kids from our neighborhood actually.”

“Mr. Rogers once told me you kicked ass.”

“Ha! I can’t argue with that.” He tapped his vibranium fingers on the granite countertop. “I even fought back against an off duty cop once. Knocked him out with one punch.”

“Really!” Peter leaned forward, completely enthralled in the man’s tale.

He nodded sadly. “Yeah. A few of our other friends were gay. I never understood ’em, but I tried to support ’em. That wasn’t really acceptable back then and… some were killed ’cause of it. Police were mean to ’em too.”

“That’s horrible.” There was nothing but pure honesty and sincerity in the teen’s voice, and it warmed Bucky’s heart. “I’m so sorry.”

“Eh, it was a long time ago. Nothing I can do ’bout it now.”

“That’s legal now, you know. Gay marriage.”

“Really? I mean, I know your dads are a thing. But I wasn’t sure if people actually knew about it.”

“They kept it a secret at first,” Peter explained as he switched the cookies out, “but that was for personal reasons. They made a public statement a couple of months back. Decided to come out about it.” Once he’d finished putting the last of the raw mix into the oven, he sat back down, this time beside Bucky, not across. 

“The lgbtqa community is more accepted now because lots of the younger generations are more accepting of all types of lifestyles and all types of people. The world is focusing more on helping the planet because… you know, we live here. Not like we can just jump timelines.” He chuckled at the thought.

“That’s… good to hear.” A genuine smile pulled the corners of Bucky’s lips upwards, making his eyes crinkle. “Less hate.” 

“There’s always gonna be someone that wants to cause problems, for whatever reason that might be. Greed, jealousy, revenge… you name it.” Peter’s gaze fell to the floor. “I mean, we fight psycho villains and aliens pretty much every other week. My point is though,” he looked up at Bucky with his big, Bambi eyes, filled with innocence and love, “Things are a lot different now than in 1943 and from when you were… you know… frozen. But I think you’ll like it here.” 

Buck smiled proudly, his flesh hand coming up to ruffle Peter’s hair. “Yeah, runt, I think I will.”

“Oh, Mr. Bucky, before I forget. Do magnets stick on your arm?”

************

“I can’t believe it.” Tony groaned. He let himself fall back onto his king-sized bed, the soft memory foam mattress molded to his form. He laid on his back, his arms spread out with one rested across his husband’s chest.

Bruce didn’t look up from the book he was reading - he was very used to his husband’s dramatic antics. Turning the page, he asked, “can’t believe what?”

“That Barnes is already wrapped around Pete’s little finger. The guy’s been here for two days! Only two days!” He waved his hands around as he complained. “Barnes is dangerous. How did Peter befriend him so quickly?”

“Are you really that surprised?” Bruce adjusted his glasses, sparing a glance at the man sprawled out beside him. “You would have to be completely evil, not to like Peter. He grows on everyone. Remember when he was introduced to Loki? The god of mischief was completely smitten. Besides, everyone on the team is dangerous.”

Tony sighed heavily. “I know it’s just- Barnes, he’s so…”

“Would it be safe to say that your hostility towards Bucky is clouding your judgment?

“I am not being hostile!” Tony sat up and glared at his fellow scientist. “I’m just… cautious. I’m just being cautious.”

With a heavy sigh, Bruce earmarked the page he was on and set his book on the side table. “Tony, honey. I know Bucky isn’t your favorite person right now.” 

At that, Tony crossed his arms and grumbled, “damn straight.”

“And that’s okay.” Bruce began massaging his husband’s scalp. “But I think that, when you’re ready, it’d be good to give him a chance. He isn’t the Winter Soldier anymore.”

“I know. I know it’s just-“

“Difficult. I get it, honey, really. You’re entitled to your feelings, and I can’t begin to imagine how you’re feeling. But-“

“I shouldn’t project my feelings onto Peter. I know.” He felt his body relax when Bruce pulled him down, so they were laying pressed against each other. “I just worry.” He rested his forehead against Bruce’s.

“Me too. But that’s our job.” 

An impish grin found its way onto Tony’s face. “I know how we can de-stress.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“Oh really.” Bruce played along, testing his spouse’s impulses. “What could you possibly mean?” He had already unbuttoned his nightshirt and tossed it over his shoulder, not caring where it landed.

Tony pushed himself up and straddled Bruce. “Let me show you, Brucie-bear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be safe everyone! Please leave a kudos and/or comment to let me know what you think!


	9. Holiday cheer and holiday fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween is just around the corner and Peter is doing his best to stay positive despite all of the horrors thrown at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter focuses mostly on Peter and his friends with other little bits and pieces going on. I’m trying to add some levity because this story is kinda dark in some spots. I’m sorry there hasn’t been much action so far. I’m working up to it.
> 
> There is a reference to suicide about halfway through the chapter when Flash is bullying Peter. So if that could trigger you, please skip over that section.

“I can’t believe it’s only two days until Friday! A.k.a Halloween!” Ned squealed loudly as he ran up to greet his best friend. “I’m so excited! Are you excited?”

“Yeah,” Peter laughed, loving his friend’s enthusiasm. Halloween was their favorite holiday; it always had been. He stuffed his ten-pound math book into his backpack and slammed his locker shut. “I can not wait to go trick or treating.”

“I bet we’ll get so much candy.”

“We’ve gotta hit the Sanctum. Dr. Strange has bags of jolly ranchers that never go empty.”

Ned stopped dead in his tracks and looked at Peter as if he’d grown wings. “No way.”

“Yes, way.” Peter grinned. 

“We’re gonna get so many cavities!” Ned cheered. “Trick or treat is from 6:00-8:00, and the dance is from 8:30-10:00. So that works out perfectly.”

“Am I interrupting your nerd session?” MJ asked, an unimpressed look on her face. Her locker wasn’t far from the boys, so she could see them geeking out from her position down the hall.

“N-no.” Peter’s cheeks flushed pink. “I was just going to look for you, actually.”

“Oh yeah.” She pecked his lips. “Why is that?”

“Because I like being around you.” He smiled bashfully. “And I wanted to ask you if you would come with me to the Halloween dance? If you want to, that is.”

“Of course I do, loser.” She took her boyfriend’s hand and turned to Ned. “You going to ask Betty?”

“I was going to ask her at lunch. But I need my wingman and wingwoman.” He pulled his face into a pout and tried his best to imitate Peter’s patented puppy eyes. But he ended up looking sick rather than cute.

“We’ll help, man.” Peter choked out between laughs. “OMG. Your face!”

“You look like you’re constipated.” MJ deadpanned.

****************

Friday interrupted Tony’s work. “Boss, Mr. Rogers is requesting your presence.”

Tony inwardly groaned. “Why?” He didn’t want to leave his lab, at least not until Peter came home. It was only 10:00 in the morning.

“He did not say. Just that it was important.”

“Fine,” Tony grumbled as he begrudgingly got into the elevator. He didn’t bother to select a floor, knowing Friday would take him where he needed to go. Soon enough, the doors opened onto the first communal floor.

“Hi, Tony.” Steve greeted him as soon as he stepped out. All of the ex-rogues were there, standing in a row to the Captain’s left. 

Tony’s hackles immediately raised. He gripped his mug of apple juice tighter. Barnes had been living at the tower for a couple of weeks now, and so far, nothing had happened to warrant the man’s eviction. But Tony couldn’t stop eyeing him suspiciously.

“Tony we- I wanted to apologize.”

_Wow_ , Tony thought, _I was not expecting that_. He looked the Captain up and down as if expecting this to be some sort of prank. But Steve looked as serious as ever. “Oh, you mean it.” 

“Yes. I do.” Steve scratched the back of his neck, nervously. “I was wrong in the past. And I- things are different now. And I want you to know that you can trust me. I need you to know that I regret my actions. I didn’t handle things as well as I could have.”

“Same goes for me,” Clint said with zero sarcasm. It was almost scary to see Clint this subdued. Even in battle, he tended to mock the enemy and throw jokes around. “I was wrong about you, Tony. And I’m sorry.”

Sam was the next to speak. “I’m sorry too. Things got out of hand… to say the least. And I didn’t help much.” 

“I know my involvement didn’t improve anything.” Bucky glanced at the billionaire but quickly looked away when Tony’s calculating gaze fell to him. “So, I’m sorry for any trouble I caused. I meant you no harm.”

They were coming together again; as a team but also a family. And Tony had to admit, he was grateful to have everyone together under one roof. It was reassuring on multiple levels and slowly but surely, things were returning to normal. The normal before the Accords.

Yet, this was still a surprise to him. But then again, Tony had always expected the worst from people. It was a self-defense mechanism. The less you expect, the less disappointed you are when someone hurts you. But he also believed in second chances.

“Okay. I forgive you.” The surprised look on all their faces made him laugh. 

***************

Happy greeted Peter how he usually did when he picked the teenage spider up from school. With a gruff, “get in.” Before, he raised the divider for the twenty-minute drive back to the tower to block out the incessant chatter coming from the back seat. 

Today though, there was no energetic, “hi, uncle Happy! How was your day? I still don’t understand why everyone calls you Happy. You’re usually pretty grumpy.” 

Instead, the usually energetic and perky kid was silent. Peter tossed his backpack in, then climbed in himself, slamming the door harder than necessary. A plain white envelope was clutched between his long piano-playing fingers. 

Happy couldn’t just say nothing. Sure, he acted like he didn’t care. But he did care, and a lot at that. “You alright there, kid?” 

“Hm?” Peter’s expression did a complete one-eighty when he saw his uncle’s concerned face in the rearview mirror. “Oh yeah. Yeah, everything’s fine.” He broke eye contact and quickly stuffed his earbuds in, signaling that the conversation was over.

It was obvious that Peter was lying. But Happy wasn’t going to press him. He could just notify Tony later. 

The divider stayed open for the entire trip

***********

Peter stayed in his private lab until dinner. Just tinkering away at whatever happened to be in front of him. He knew his parents or any of his other teammates would’ve noticed his change in temperament, and he didn’t want to talk. He needed to be distracted. So he worked on upgrading his aunt’s widow bites, updated Karen, and went over some forms that Pepper needed signing before her trip on Monday to an SI factory in Tokyo.

But as much as he tried to distract himself, the scenario from earlier in the day continued to play out in his head. 

_“What!” Flash had yelled, yanking Peter’s progress report away from him. He made a big scene in front of the entire class, including their calc teacher Mrs. Holt. For whatever reason, she seemed to dislike Peter too. “How do you have all A’s? Huh, puny Parker? You must’ve cheated!” Flash himself had gotten mostly C’s._

_“I didn’t cheat.” Peter adamantly protested. “Please ju-“_

_“No one has ever gotten all A’s before.” Mrs. Holt added. She looked at Peter disapprovingly. “At least, not in my twenty-five years of teaching here. The classes are extremely challenging, and seeing as you never ask for help…” she trailed off, shrugging innocently._

_Flash waved his arms around wildly. “I told you guys! Parker shouldn’t be here! He doesn’t deserve it.”_

“Peter, Boss is requesting your presence on the communal floor. Steve has made dinner, and it is ready.” Friday’s feminine yet slightly robotic voice interrupted Peter’s thoughts.

“Okay. Tell dad I’ll be right down.”

“Of course, Peter.” She noted the change in him and asked, clearly concerned, “is there anything else I can assist you with? You seem rather tired and not like yourself.”

Peter stepped into the elevator and hit floor eighty-six. “No thank you, Friday,” he sighed. 

“I do have something that might cheer you up.” She coaxed. 

“Oh really?”

“Really.” If Friday had lips, she’d definitely be smirking. 

She was only an AI, an artificial intelligence system, whose purpose was to help run SI and assist Tony with whatever he might need. But on some level, she really did care for the inhabitants of the tower, particularly Peter. She knew Peter needed to see something positive. So what was better than showing him that the rogues had apologized to Tony? It was something Peter had been wishing for ever since the rogues had returned. 

“I’ve sent the video to your phone.”

Shrugging, Peter opened up his Stark phone and went to the videos. Sure enough, there was a new video. He clicked play and was pleasantly surprised.

A minute later, the elevator doors opened onto the first communal floor. Boisterous laughter could be heard from the dining room as the other Avengers joked with one another and prepared to eat.

“Oh hey, Pete.” Steve was the first to notice him and waved. “I hope you’re hungry. I made lots of- oof.” He wasn’t expecting the teen to plow into him, wrapping him up in such a tight hug he could barely breathe - not that he didn’t enjoy it because he did. He returned the hug and looked down at the tiny brunet curiously. “You good, son?”

He rested his head against Steve’s shoulder. “I love you, uncle Steve. Thanks for dinner.”

“I-“Steve cleared his throat, trying not to get too choked up. He looked to Tony, relief filling him when he saw the mechanic smiling. “I love you too, kiddo.”

****************

Bucky ran into the living room, his heavy footsteps startling Peter, who had his head in his English textbook. He yelled, “Peter!” 

The book went flying when the teen jumped, and he looked around. “Jesus?”

“Nah, it’s just me.” Bucky’s smirk came into view. “I need your help with something.”

“Oh, okay. What’s up.” He pushed his homework aside.

“There’s- I have a picture…” Buck pulled his new Stark phone from his pocket. He managed to turn it on but couldn’t figure out how to pull up the internet browser. He managed to search the internet once but couldn’t remember how he’d accomplished it. 

With a modest smile, Peter held out his hand. Bucky handed his phone over with a grateful smile. 

“There’s somethin’ I wanna try.”

Peter pulled up Google Chrome and went into Bucky’s search history. His eyebrows shot up. “You want to do this? Are you sure? I mean… MJ and I were kinda joking before.”

“Hell yeah, I want to!” The man grinned widely. “It’s a new day and age… why not make a fashion statement?”

“Hm. Yeah, I guess.”

“Great!” Bucky jumped from his seat, effortlessly slung Peter - who huffed indignantly - over his shoulder and headed towards the elevator.

*************

Natasha slammed the lid of her laptop shut with a heavy sigh. After days of digging and countless hours searching and investigating, there was absolutely nothing to show for it. 

Rick’s record was spotless. Perfect attendance in school, straight-A student throughout high school; he even attended one of New York’s highest-ranking colleges, Columbia University. He was a criminal justice major and graduated top of his class.

Natasha hadn’t expected any large scale criminal offenses, considering Rick was chief of police. But there was nothing negative on this man’s record. Not even a speeding ticket. As far as an employer or politician was concerned, Rick was an upstanding citizen who excelled at everything he did.

This wasn’t what she’d been expecting, to say the least, because this gave her nothing to go on.

She leaned back in her desk chair, causing the wheels to creek in protest at the movement. She sat quietly for a few minutes, running her fingers through her dark red locks as she thought about her options. 

The shrill ringtone of her cellphone cut off her thinking process. Fury’s name popped up on the caller ID. She wasn’t sure why he was calling. SHIELD had been effectively rebuilt after the Project Insight debacle, and there was nothing left of HYDRA; the Avengers themselves had taken the last base. 

She hesitated slightly before answering. If the director had a mission planned he’d just have to call someone else. “This is agent Romanov.”

“Natasha.” Fury greeted warmly - the strict and oftentimes harsh director had a soft spot for his two best agents, Maria Hill and Natasha Romanov. “I was wondering if you could fly down to Virginia to help train some new SHIELD recruits? I’ve got multiple senior agents down being led by Sharon Carter. But I was hoping you could show them a few tricks.” 

“I’m sorry, Fury. I would but…” she trailed off, scanning the pages of notes scattered across her desk. “I’ve got something more important to deal with.”

There was a light chuckle on Fury’s end. “I kinda figured you would decline.”

“Then why ask?” She asked, her eyes narrowed.

“Because it’s always worth asking.” He shrugged. “And… I also wanted to check in and see how you were holding up. I heard about Donavon’s release.”

“I-“she huffed out a breath, “a lot is going on right now. Things that we need to figure out but don’t have any promising leads to follow.” The emotion that was present in her voice frustrated her. She was the world’s best spy, yet she couldn’t keep the anger and worry from coloring her words, coating them like a fresh coat of paint.

“That Parker kid, Spider-Man, he means a lot to you. Doesn’t he?” Fury smiled even though he knew the spy couldn’t see him. 

Natasha couldn’t help but smile as well. Her baby spider never failed to make her happy. “He means more to me than life itself.”

Fury’s grin expanded. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you warm up to someone so fast. Not even that fun-loving Barton.”

“Hm, you’re one to talk.” Natasha parried. “Weren’t you the one raving about the kid’s solar-powered quinjet and how he took down the Lizard with one punch?”

“Well… you got me there.”

Her gaze fell onto the two framed pictures hanging on the wall opposite her bed. The larger frame held a photo of all the avengers - courtesy of Friday. Everyone was huddled together in the living room, a vast blanket fort covering them as they all laughed hysterically at a movie they were watching. Natasha couldn’t even remember what movie, just that it was a new film Clint wanted to watch and Peter had found it to be completely amazing.

The second picture was of her and Peter, just the two of them. A loving smile on Natasha’s lips as she snuggled with her pseudo son. They’d been sitting together, just hanging out one day after the teen had come home from school. Fifteen minutes later, after giving a full recount of his day and Natasha’s hair playing, and the kid was fast asleep. 

She would do anything for her pseudo son.

A sudden thought crossed her mind. “Fury, can you do me a favor?”

*************

“Thanks, runt. Looks great.” Bucky looked at himself in his bathroom mirror, admiring his blue streaked hair. It was only temporary. As his hair grew out, the color would fade and eventually get cut off. But the electric blue was a stark contrast to the man’s dark brown hair. 

“Ready to show the team?” Peter threw out the remainder of the product and wiped up the few droplets of color that had ended up in the sink. He was quite pleased with how Bucky’s hair had turned out, considering he didn’t have much practice. He’d dyed MJ’s hair once before, but that was over three years ago. 

“Oh yeah. Let’s go.”

The two entered the elevator and traveled down from Bucky’s and Steve’s shared floor to the gym, where the entire team was prepping for a training exercise. None of the heroes were expecting a change in the super-soldier’s appearance.

“Woah! Nice hair frosty two-point-o!” Tony cheered.

Clint smirked. “That color looks good on you.”

“What the fuck!” Sam threw his hands up in surprise.

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “Language.” 

Natasha grinned and couldn’t help but say, “lookin’ good, Barnes.”

****************

Peter sensed the fist coming. He easily could’ve blocked it or simply moved out of the way. But he didn’t because he wasn’t Spider-Man right now.

“Take this, Parker!” Was all he heard before Flash’s fist collided with his left cheek, forcing his head to slam back into the lockers. Grabbing the smaller teen’s shirt, Flash yanked Peter forward before throwing him onto the ground harshly.

School had ended a little over twenty minutes ago, so the halls were empty. The lack of students and faculty allowed the bullies to be uncensored. Peter regretted staying behind to talk about a newly discovered planet to his astrology teacher. Now, he had neither MJ nor Ned for support.

Flash commanded his group of followers too, “grab the freak” and began to lead the way towards the art hallway. He smirked at his prey. “Hope you didn’t have your internship today.” He drug out the word internship, emphasizing his disbelief in Peter’s claim. “‘Cause you’re gonna be here for a while.” They stopped in front of the janitor’s supply closet.

Daryl - another one of Flash’s cronies - opened the door as the other five boys pushed Peter closer. The pungent smell of bleach and various other cleaners made Peter’s stomach roll. He’d need more than two hands to count how many times Flash had pulled this awful prank. But he knew he could never fight back.

“Let me go, Flash!” Peter tried to twist out of Mike’s grip and glared up at Flash. “Why do you have to do this? Just leave me alone.”

“We do this ’cause it’s fun.” A sick twisted smile grew on Flash’s face. “Right, guys?” The other teen’s whooped and cheered loudly, only adding to Peter’s misery. And with one quick shove, Peter was on the floor inside the supply closet. The lock turned behind him.

“Come on, guys. Please!” Holding his punches, Peter slammed his fists against the thick wooden door. He could hear the other boys laughing and mocking him.

“What’re ya afraid someone’s gonna miss you?” Daryl laughed.

“Because no one will.” Mike smacked the door. “No one cares about you, Parker. Haven’t you learned that already?”

Flash wiggled the door handle as if checking to see if it were locked. “You could vanish off the face of the earth, and no one would notice. So why don’t you do us all a favor and drink the bleach that’s in there? Put us all out of our misery.” The group of bullies laughed and cackled as they headed out into the school parking lot. 

Peter dropped to his knees, not bothering to wipe away the river of tears streaming down his face. His cries were soft, barely audible. He didn’t want anyone who happened to be walking by to hear him. If he were to suffer, then he’d suffer alone. 

The saying, sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me, came to mind. He chuckled darkly. _What a load of bull shit_. Words tended to hurt more than any flesh wound, especially if they came from someone you were supposed to be able to trust - like May - or coincide with - like a fellow student.

A part of him knew Flash was full of it. That he was just jealous and angry, so he took it out on others. Peter knew that his parents and family loved him and that Ned and MJ would always have his back.

But there was still this little voice in the back of his head telling him that Flash and all the other kids and villains were right. That Peter was a worthless screw up that would never amount to anything. A mutant freak that got everyone he loved killed. That little voice had always been there and would undoubtedly remain. 

His cries lessened as the minutes ticked by. Checking his phone, he realized only fifteen minutes had passed. Natasha - who was picking him up today instead of Happy or one of his parents - was undoubtedly concerned at his lateness.

“Peter?” Natasha’s voice startled him. A soft knock on the door followed. “Sweetheart, are you in there?” 

“Мама! Я здесь.” (Mom. I’m here.)

“Break the doorknob. I’ll clear the surveillance footage later.”

Peter effortlessly crushed the metal doorknob in his hand and pushed the door open, falling straight into his aunt’s arms. 

“Friday tracked your suit.” Her arms tightened around her nephew as she pulled him to his feet. They needed to head back home. Her anger flared when she noticed the light purple bruise discoloring Peter’s left cheekbone. She’d kill whoever did that. “I’ve got you, sweetheart.”

The ride back to the tower was tense. After being questioned about where the bruise came from and how he managed to lock himself in a closet, Peter clamped up. “It’s fine, aunt Tasha. I can handle it.”

Natasha took one of Peter’s hands and squeezed it, her lips set in a thin line. There was no way she was going to let this go. And Peter knew it. “We’ll talk more at home.”

Peter didn’t bother to argue because he knew it was pointless. He just wiped his eyes blearily and watched the skyscrapers go by.

************

“Peter’s being bullied!” Natasha yelled upon entering the communal living room where all the other teammates happened to be sitting. Her grip on Peter’s shoulder tightened when he tried to run away. 

Everyone looked positively murderous.

“What!” Clint growled.

Bucky threw down the magazine he’d been reading and stood up. “Who do I need to kill?”

“I’ve got a knife on me somewhere.” Sam began patting himself down, looking for the Swiss Army knife he always kept with him.

Steve’s jaw dropped, and he gasped, “what! That’s horrible.”

One voice rang out louder than the rest. “How the hell are we only hearing about this now?” Tony was livid. He knew all about bullies, and he’d be damned if he let Peter suffer. Like what Howard had done to him.

“How long has this been going on?” Bruce asked as he examined the small bruise - which was almost completely gone. His thumb ever-so-gently brushed the pale skin beside the pop of color. His eyes were full of sadness and concern. 

“Not- um, not long… not long at all.” Peter stammered unconvincingly. He twisted the hem of his shirt anxiously, his gaze locked on the floor.

“Did anyone ever tell you,” Tony curled a finger beneath Peter’s chin and brought his face up, so they were eye to eye, a playful smirk was plastered on the billionaire’s face, “that you’re a terrible liar?”

“Y-yeah.” Peter chuckled. “You do, actually.”

Tony’s fingers danced over the now completely faded bruise. He tutted quietly. “This conversation isn’t over. Not by a long shot.” He shared a look with his husband before turning back to Peter. “But for now, I want you to head up to your room and get ready for Halloween. Your nerd buddies are going to be here soon.” 

The grateful smile Peter gave Tony ignited a spark of joy and love within his chest. He would do anything to keep that sweet, innocent smile on Peter’s face.

************

“Great costume, Ned.” 

The heavyset boy grinned from ear to ear. Getting a compliment from Tony Stark was a one in a million chance, and Ned took it in stride. “Thank you so much, Mr. Stark, sir! My mom helped me get everything together.” Most of the Avengers were in the same room as him, waiting to wave the teen’s off.

“Who’re ya supposed to be?” Sam asked as he approached the group.

“Oh, um, Mace Windu, Mr. Falcon sir.” 

“Oh yeah. Peter told us you were into Star Wars.”

MJ rolled her eyes at Ned’s star-struck look. Both Ned and herself had visited the tower on dozens of occasions. But she understood his admiration of the heroes. She herself aspired to be a strong female leader, such as Natasha and Pepper. 

“Don’t piss yourself, loser.” She pulled the hood of her red cloak back, revealing her frizzy hair. “We’re heading to the dance after this, remember? You don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of Betty.”

“I know. I’m just excited.”

“You’re always excited.”

“What? No-“

“Hey, guys!” The elevator opened, and Peter bolted out. He smiled broadly at the sight of his friends. “Awesome costume, Ned!”

In a deep voice, Ned replied, “thank you, young padawan.” 

MJ smirked. “How goes it, Wolfie?”

With the help of his mom, Peter had put holes and tears in one of his old plaid shirts and a faded pair of his jeans, which equated to a werewolf costume you could buy at any store. His aunt had even painted his face to look like a wolf. It was more fun to make your own costume. And his had turned out pretty cool.

“I’m good.” He blushed. “You look really nice. I uh… I think you look good in red.”

“Thanks. I wasn’t so sure about being Little Red Riding Hood, but I think I like it.”

Bruce held up his phone to take some pictures. “Okay, guys, I just wanna take some pictures before you go.” The teen’s huddled together in response so Bruce could go photo crazy. This was his first Halloween with his son. He was going to take as many damn pictures as he could.

“Be safe.” Tony pulled Peter in for one last hug. “Text me when you get to the party, and then when it’s over, so Happy can pick you up. Don’t talk to strangers or bye drugs or pick a fight with a bad guy or-“

“Dad,” Peter laughed, “I’ll be careful. Don’t give yourself a heart attack.” He pulled his friends to the elevator and called over his shoulder, “Bye, uncle Steve, bye, uncle Bucky, bye, uncle Rhodey, bye uncle Sam, bye uncle Clint, bye, aunt Tasha, bye aunt Pepper, bye mom, bye dad.” 

Once the elevator doors closed, Rhodey turned to his best friend and said, “your kid is adorable Tones.”

“Of course, he is.” Tony grinned proudly.

“Hey, where’s that ant guy?” Bucky asked. He hadn’t seen Scott all day.

“He’s visiting his daughter, Cassie, for a while. She’s like, ten, I think. So they’re probably dressed up too. Clint,” Tony looked to the archer, “when do you leave?

“Around 8:00 tonight. Halloween is tomorrow for my kids. I’m going to spend the day at home then trick or treat with ’em later.” He couldn’t wait just to relax and spend time with his wife and kids.

“Tony,” Steve spoke up hesitantly. “Why is Peter calling us uncle all of a sudden? I don’t mind at all! It was just a rapid shift from Mr. Rogers to uncle Steve.” The other rogues nodded, equally curious. 

“It is because you apologized to Boss and settled your differences,” Friday answered. “He has always respected the Avengers. But now... he fully trusts you.”

A grateful, almost delighted look appeared on the faces of the ex-rogues. It was nice to know that they held Peter’s trust. Each hero secretly vowed to be the best uncle they could be because Peter deserved nothing less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan on writing (or at least trying to write) all of the stories listed below. Not sure how many chapters they’ll be. Their length will depend on how much time I have and if they get a good response.
> 
> But whichever ideas are more popular I’ll write them first. So, could I please have some input on which story ideas sound more interesting? 
> 
> 1\. Wolf Spider (au where Peter is also a werewolf)  
> 2\. I see them (au where Peter has a literal sixth-sense sorta like the shining)  
> 3\. Birds of Prey (prequel to Monster in the walls)  
> 4\. Grandparents day (Part 7 to my saving & raising a spider series where Peter meets his grandparents)  
> 5\. The Trip (field trip trope for my saving and raising a spider series)  
> 6\. Quite the Pair (au where Natasha brought Peter with her when she escaped HYDRA and started working for SHIELD) - I have some mega cool ideas for this one;)  
> 7\. Not your fault (au where Peter still lives with May and his aunt starts to develop some negative behaviors)
> 
> If you could please leave me your thoughts in the comment section I’d greatly appreciate it!


	10. Digging deep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry I didn’t update my story for a while. July 27th I rescued an injured baby raccoon I named Rocket. She was adorable and just a sweetheart. But I’m still training to rehabilitate animals and I’m not qualified to administer medicine, such as antibiotics, that she needed to heal. So I took her to a rehabilitation center so she could have the best shot at recovery. I became very depressed after dropping her off and I’ve been very down ever since. I could barely focus on anything and had no energy. I’m still struggling. Rocket sought comfort in me; climbing up my shirt, holding my hand, and sleeping right beside me. I was the one that rescued her but she truly made me happy. I miss that love and comfort she gave me. Then, my dad fell off our roof and was in the ICU for over two weeks and a day after we took my dad to the hospital, my neighbor was in a car crash. Then I had to take my mom to the emergency room a few days ago. And then, R. B. G passed away. I was so devastated!   
> These past couple of months sucked.
> 
> But I intend to update as usual now. I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please tell me what you think! I really appreciate the feedback.

Court documents, school reports, background records, notes, and multiple other files laid spread out on the long conference room table. The Avengers were gathered around, discussing the information they knew in a team meeting.

“Damn it!” Tony cried. “How did I not notice any of this earlier?”

There were so many red flags. Too many. It was almost comical how rudimentary Peter’s case had been handled. Everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong. And the team couldn’t have been more furious. 

The judge, Mr. Mike Corbin, who oversaw Peter’s case, had been reinstated a month before Peter’s case had gone to the courts. After being suspended for nearly five months after being charged with bribery, conspiracy, and obstruction of justice. 

However, he was never found guilty but only because the lead investigator of the judicial investigation committee had been on drugs. The investigator - who happened to be a federal judge - was disbarred, and the case was discarded. All charges against Corbin were dropped. 

And despite nearly ten years of abusive behavior, there was little to no physical evidence. Peter’s injuries would have been the best proof of his relative’s abuse. But after being shot multiple times as Spider-Man, there was absolutely no way they could’ve moved forward without revealing his identity. 

MJ had given a personal statement to the SWAT team that had initially raided the apartment. But it was short and inconclusive. She didn’t know any of the details because Peter had always tried to spare her. Therefore she couldn’t be counted as a reliable witness. 

The principal and teachers at Midtown tech were equally unhelpful. They seemed incredibly surprised when the police arrived to interview Peter’s teachers. The typical answers were, “I don’t know anything.” And, “I had no idea there was anything wrong.” Which demonstrated Peter’s ample ability to put on a mask and May’s ability to lie.

An old belt, coated in dried blood, was the only weapon the police found within the apartment. But surprise, surprise; before the evidence could be addressed in court, the belt disappeared. And not just from the evidence locker, but from every record too. As far as the defense lawyer was concerned, no evidence meant no case. And sadly, he was right.

Peter himself had been in no shape to testify. The kid could barely stand, let alone affirm his pleas in court. He was so malnourished and exhausted, having been beaten down all his life. As a result, the police went off of what limited evidence and minimal clues they had, which ended up being nothing in the long run.

“Don’t do this to yourself, Tones,” Rhodey said firmly, his tone was assertive yet soft. He used simple logic and reasoning to explain himself, two things the billionaire had a hard time applying to himself. “You were busy with Peter. Getting him settled was more important.” He rested a hand on the billionaire’s shoulder, feeling the tense muscles beneath. “You couldn’t have known about all the other skeevy stuff that was going on.” 

“We still should’ve noticed… something.” Bruce ran a shaky hand through his messy curls. “B-but this- all of this would’ve been on th-the news! People would’ve been talking about it!”

“Easy, big guy.” Natasha pulled Bruce’s hands towards herself when he began to tug harshly at his hair. “Uh uh, look at me.” She leaned forward in her chair, so she was closer to the scientist and looked directly into his eyes. Once he returned her gaze, she said, “we need you to stay calm, okay? We are going to figure this out, but I need you here.” She took his hands and squeezed them gently. “We need you with us, okay?”

After three measured deep breaths, Bruce replied, “yeah. ‘M here.”

Natasha gave a tight nod of approval before continuing her examination of Peter’s case file. 

“May plead guilty to the charges of neglect and child abuse,” Steve read the case summary aloud, “and was sentenced to ten years in prison with no parole. It was also recommended that she-” he paused, his eyebrows scrunched up in confusion.

“That she what?” Asked Clint.

“That she undergoes a psychological evaluation.” Everyone perked up at that.

“I mean, I get that it’s messed up when anyone hurts kids.” Sam mused. “But why a full out psychological evaluation? That normally doesn’t happen in instances like this.”

“She hasn’t undergone any tests.” Natasha cut in. “I’ve been keeping tabs on her, and she hasn’t had any visitors since her sentence. The exception being her brother, Rick. And that was once, right before he returned to work.”

“Who recommended the evaluation?” Clint asked. 

“A member of the jury who was a retired psychologist.” 

“His or her name?” Tony demanded rather than asked, his eyes glued to his phone.

“Uh,” Steve flipped the page over, “Mrs. Burke.”

“Got that, Friday?”

“Yes, Boss.” Friday responded immediately. Through her connectivity to Tony’s phone, she pulled up all available information on Mrs. Burke. Formerly Dr. Burke.

“Holy shit!” Tony gasped as he clicked on the most recent news report. “Mrs. Burke, a prestigious psychologist and mental health advocate found dead in her apartment.”

“When did that happen?” Bruce exclaimed, his voice wavering slightly at the end.

“Two days ago.” Tony mumbled. “Fatal gunshot wound to the head.”

“Are there any leads or any other information?”

He continued to scroll through the article. “The Coroner ruled it a suicide. But… I’m not buying it. I’ll put Friday on it, just in case. You got that, baby girl?”

“Affirmative, Boss.”

“Honey, do you remember what Peter said?” Bruce tugged on his husband’s sleeve in an attempt at pulling the mechanic closer. “After his nightmare the other week.”

A frown appeared on the billionaire’s face. “Yeah, babe, I do.”

“Ya mind sharing?” Clint asked, not unkindly. He knew this was a rough topic for everyone, but it was incredibly difficult for the couple.

“Peter had a nightmare about Rick a couple of weeks back.” Tony explained. “He’s had lots of ’em actually. But this one was particularly bad.”

“We managed to wake him up and got him to open up a little once he had calmed down.” Bruce added softly. “We,” he nodded to his husband, “Tony and I, think that May could be bipolar or have reactive attachment disorder. Maybe a combination of both. Some anger management issues wouldn’t be out of the question either.”

“If Peter’s stories and past experiences were anything to go by. And that kid would never lie. If he says something was going on with his aunt, then there’s something going on with his aunt.”

The team remained silent for a few moments, processing Tony’s words. If May had been struggling with a mental illness, then things just got ten times more complicated. It was Natasha who broke the tense silence.

“I’ll get in touch with Fury.” Natasha said as she stood from her seat and headed towards the door. “He can speed up the process of setting up a private appointment with May. I think if any of us just showed up, we’d run into trouble.”

“Yeah.” Steve sighed. “I agree with you there.” He stood from his seat. “I think we’re done for now. Until we find any leads, there’s nothing we can do. Nat, get in touch with Fury and give us an update when you can.” The red-head nodded before walking off to begin her assignment. “Tony,” he turned to the billionaire who was furiously paging through his phone, “you’ll give us an update once Friday is finished digging?”

“‘Course I will, Capsicle.” He responded coolly. 

“Okay then. Meeting adjourned.” 

Steve hung back as the others filed out of the conference room. He’d been keeping an eye on Bucky since the meeting started. The ex-assassin hadn’t said a word the entire time, but he didn’t need to. Steve had known Bucky since they were kids and could read the man like an open book.

“How are you holding up?” Steve asked once they were alone. He leaned his hip against the table’s edge and gazed intently at Bucky’s clenched fists. “I should get you a stress ball.”

Bucky scuffed. “I’d need fifty a day. I think I’m better off with the punching bags.”

“Oh, so is that why there were seven destroyed punching bags on the floor of the gym yesterday?”

“Sorry.” His eyes briefly flitted up to Steve’s face before falling away guiltily. “I didn’t mean to make a mess.”

“That isn’t a problem, Buck, you know that.” He placed a reassuring hand on Bucky’s flesh arm. His ocean-blue eyes softened. “Tell me what’s actually bothering you.”

“I-I care about him. Peter, he’s... He’s just like you used to be.” Memories of pre-serum Steve came to mind, and he smiled. “Really scrawny, smart ass, and likes to pick fights with things ten-times his size. And I always defended you.” 

He laughed as he recalled when he and Steve had gotten kicked out of the Natural History Museum. Steve tried to fight a guy who was aggressively hitting on a young woman, and Bucky ended up saving Steve and kicking the creep’s ass all the way into New Jersey. 

“He- he is my little brother. Of course, I want to protect him.”

Steve smiled, his eyes locked onto the wall ahead. “I understand, Buck. I love the kid too. But don’t worry… he’s got all of the Avengers on his side.”

That seemed to appease the soldier. “Okay.” He stood and clapped his friend on the shoulder. “How ’bout we train? I need to get my aggression out on somethin’, and you’re here so…”

“Challenge accepted,” Steve smirked. “But don’t expect me to go easy on you.”

“Same here. Although, I think you’re used to being a punching bag. You had lots of practice back in the day. You got beat up at least once every day.”

“I did not!”

***************

“I can’t believe you’ve been here a month already, Barnes,” Natasha smirked over the top of her magazine. She’d just gotten the new issue of Guns and Ammo and was enjoying it alongside a hot cup of tea before breakfast. “How’s it feel?”

“Good… honestly.” He smiled in earnest. “I feel safer here.”

“You transitioned well. Better than I thought you would.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and chuckled. “Thanks, Romanov. Really feelin’ the love.”

Just then, Peter came around the corner with a skip in his step. His hair was extra curly and fluffed up since he hadn’t yet attempted to comb it back, and he was still in his pajamas - which happened to be Avenger themed. 

Usually, Peter ate breakfast in the penthouse with his parents before heading off to school or launching into Stark Industries business with Tony. But on the weekends, everyone typically congregated to the communal floor to eat together.

“Hi, aunt Tasha.” He greeted his aunt with a big hug.

“Morning, sweetheart.” She set her magazine on the counter to return the hug. One hand immediately found its way into Peter’s thick curls. Once they pulled apart, she asked, “what’s got you so happy?”

“The magnets I ordered for uncle Bucky came today!” He pulled five small magnets from his pants pocket and held them out for his aunt and uncle to see. He grinned eagerly at Bucky and gestured to his metal arm. “Can I stick these on your arm?”

“‘Course, pipsqueak.” He held his prosthetic arm out, giving Peter easy access to the appendage. “What are the two colorful ones?” He asked once Peter had finished applying them. 

The big red A was clearly the symbol for the Avengers. There was a donut with brown icing and a cute cartoonish rendition of a husky. But the other two were unknown to him.

“The pink, purple, and blue striped pin is the bisexual flag. And the black, grey, white, and purple striped pin is the asexual flag.” Peter pointed to the former, “my parents are bisexual, so it’s kinda a homage to them. And the asexual pin is for me.” He smiled sheepishly. 

The ace pin and black ring had been gifts from MJ for his fifteenth birthday. He absentmindedly touched the zirconium ring that adorned his right middle finger – the ring he never took off. 

This had been the first year anyone had celebrated his birthday. Both Ned and MJ had sent him happy birthday texts and had given him cards in previous years but having an actual celebration was entirely new for him. 

He’d honestly forgotten about his birthday until the Avengers had decided to throw him a surprise birthday party. Only after getting over the initial shock did he realize it was August twenty-seventh, his fifteenth birthday.

“Tony and Bruce were immensely relieved that they didn’t have to give him the talk.” Natasha’s remark - which was one hundred percent true - pulled a laugh from all three heroes.

“What’s the husky and doughnut for?” Bucky turned his arm to get a better view of the magnets.

“Well, you told me that one of your favorite things about New York was the doughnuts,” Peter explained. “The husky is because… well, you just remind me of a husky.” He shrugged. “If you were a dog, you’d be a husky.”

“You’re so weird.” Bucky huffed with nothing but love and affection in his voice. “Thanks, runt.”

“Oh hey, guys.” Sam waved to the group, Clint right behind him. The Falcon was dressed in gym clothes as he usually ran or hit the gym every morning. However, Clint was still dressed in his pajamas, phone in hand, and a look of doubt on his face.

“What’s with the look, Clint,” Natasha asked as she began paging through her magazine once again.

“This article,” Clint pointed to his lit-up phone screen, “says that you are never more than a few feet from a spider at all times.” He paused as if contemplating the information, then said, “I don’t buy it.”

Peter and Natasha looked at each other, completely unimpressed, while Bucky and Steve, who returned from the kitchen, broke out in laughter.

“Look who you’re standing next to,” Sam yelled exasperatedly, “two spiders!”

****************

Tony chucked a screwdriver across his lab as he waited for his CEO to pick up. The small tool made a loud ping as it hit the base of Dum-E. The robot beeped frantically before it picked up the screwdriver with its claw and carefully set it down on a nearby work table. Tony’s other bot, U, made a quiet beeping noise when Dum-E picked up the tool as if congratulating him.

“Hello.” Pepper’s chipper voice came through the speaker. “Tony?”

“Hey, Pep.” He turned away from his little robot buddies. “I was wondering if you could help me with something?”

“Of course.” The sound of papers could be heard as Pepper presumably shifted some things on her desk. “Just one second.” Tony could vaguely hear Pepper talking to someone, one of her assistants, he assumed. “Okay, I’m back.”

“Do you think you can get me an appointment with Judge Corbin?”

“Tony,” she sighed, “I know you’re worried about Peter. I am too! But you can not attack a civilian-“

The billionaire scuffed. “Who said Tony Stark was going to beat anybody up?”

“Ironman shouldn’t either!” Pepper growled, before saying in a much calmer tone, “don’t make things worse than they already are. If you get arrested, then who’s going to be there for Peter?”

“He’s got Bruce and the team an-“

“But he won’t have his father.”

Another tool - a hammer this time - went flying across the room. A resounding bang echoed throughout the expanse of the lab when it hit one of the reinforced walls. “Fuck!” He yelled, then instantly regretted it. “Sorry- I’m sorry, Pep.” He took a few long, measured breaths before continuing. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. I know you’re upset.” The inflection in her voice portrayed how much she cared. She was always so genuine and concerned for Tony and his family’s wellbeing. It was something Tony admired about her. “And yes, I’ll see what I can do about setting up a private appointment with him. Pull some strings to get things going faster.”

His shoulders slumped in relief. “Thank you, Pep, really. This will be so helpful.”

“I have one condition, though.”

“Oh,” he could picture the calm, suave look on his CEO’s face. “And what might that be?”

“That you take Steve with you.”

Tony didn’t have to see Pepper to know that she had one of those looks. The same impish look she got when she knew she had won an argument. He knew from experience that there was no point in arguing with Pepper once she had her mind made up.

“I want him to go with you.” She continued. “He has a level head, and I feel like it would be difficult for anyone to lie to the physical embodiment of America.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, okay. I’ll talk to Steve ’bout it.” He sighed. “It’d be good to have some backup anyway.”

“I’m glad you could see it my way.” Pepper smiled, pleased that it took so little to convince the billionaire. “Take care, Tony.”

“Thanks, Pep, you too.” Tony ended the call then pocketed his phone. He walked over to his bots, chuckling when they beeped happily. “Hey, guys,” he said as he ran his hand along the curve of Dun-E’s claw, making the little robot beep even more, “sorry I threw that screwdriver at you. I didn’t mean to hit you.”

Dum-E made a soft whirring noise and patted Tony’s shoulder - which was the bot’s equivalent of saying, “I forgive you.” Which made the man smile.

“I’m gonna be busy with your little brother, Peter, for the next couple of weeks.” He informed them. “So I need you guys to watch over the lab for me, ‘kay?”

Both of the bots beeped and whirred loudly. U took the nearby fire extinguisher off the wall and began waving it around as if threatening any possible fire. Dum-E poured the remainder of the smoothie he made for his creator - Tony had asked for a smoothie but got motor oil instead - into the trash and picked up random pieces of debris from the floor.

“I will keep an eye on them, Boss,” Friday assured. “You do not need to worry.”

“Thank you, baby girl.” Tony beamed proudly at his creations. “Thanks, guys.”

*****************

Bucky didn’t know why he was still awake. Sure, his insomnia, nightmares, and PTSD were often the culprits of his occasional sleepless nights. But it was different this time. He felt like he forgot something important, or there was something he needed to do.

He looked over at his digital alarm clock and groaned when the face displayed 3:00 a.m. “God damnit.” He swung his legs over the side of his bed and put his head in his hands. This was the fifth night in a row that he’d woken up nearly four hours earlier than he wanted to.

Slipping on a hoodie over his nightshirt, he made his way to the kitchen on Steve’s and his floor. His footfalls were silent, as many years as a soldier had instilled in him. 

“Is everything alright, Mr. Barnes?” Friday asked at a lower volume though it was still enough to make the man jump.

“Holy shit.” He gasped as he stumbled back against the sink. The ever-present AI was something he was still getting used to, often forgetting that she was there. “You scared the hell outta me, Friday.”

“My apologies, Mr. Barnes.” The AI sounded both sincere and amused. “Is there anything I might be able to help you with?”

Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, “Um… yeah, is anyone else awake?” 

He wasn’t exactly sure why he felt the need to ask that. Maybe it was because the logical side of him knew that hero work and PTSD were a packaged deal. Undoubtedly, the other inhabitants of the tower experienced nightmares and occasional sleepless nights. 

Or maybe his emotions were getting the better of him as the darkness of the kitchen and living quarters amplified the loneliness he was currently feeling. He didn’t want to be alone, but there was no way he’d wake anyone up.

“None of the Avengers are currently awake.”

Bucky sighed, mildly disappointed that he wouldn’t have any company. “Can… am I allowed on the roof? I don’t wanna wake anybody if I accidentally trip an alarm or somethin’.”

“You are permitted to go up to the roof.” The elevator in the hall opened as an invitation, which Bucky eagerly accepted. Friday continued to explain as the elevator rose higher and higher. “There are multiple cameras and security measures in place. I will be watching at all times.” The elevator stopped, but the doors remained sealed. “I will notify Boss and Dr. Banner immediately should I deem it necessary.”

Bucky nodded in affirmation, her warning clear. The doors opened, and he quickly stumbled out onto the cement roof. It was unusual to be so far away from the noisy, bustling streets, shouting people and flashing lights. Being one of the tallest buildings in New York, Avengers Towner was the best place to view the night sky. It was oddly serene.

“Hey, uncle Bucky.” Peter smiled, looking over his shoulder. He snorted into his hand when the ex-assassin jumped a foot off the ground.

Bucky quickly recovered from his little scare and joined the younger hero in the center of the roof, plopping down unceremoniously before ruffling Peter’s curly hair. “Hey, runt.” He smiled when Peter leaned into his touch. “Whatcha up to?”

At first, Peter didn’t say anything, only pulling his blanket closer around his thin frame when a sudden gust of wind hit. “I come up here a lot when I can’t sleep,” he sighed, “it’s quiet… and peaceful.”

“You got trouble sleeping?” Bucky couldn’t help but notice the dark rings under Peter’s eyes. The dark circles that seemed to be more pronounced as of late. Even in the dim lighting, they were visible. Bucky was sure he would’ve been able to see them even without his enhanced eyesight.

Peter looked away. “Yeah. Always have.”

Bucky’s heart ached for the kid. After all the horrible things Peter had been through, and he couldn’t even get a decent night’s sleep.

“How’d you know I was up here?” Big brown eyes fell onto the man, making him feel guilty for disturbing the spiderling’s peace. “I made sure Friday wouldn’t tell anyone I was awake. Let alone up on the roof.”

“I woke up, and I asked Friday if anyone else was awake. She said nobody was, so I decided to get some fresh air.” He gave his nephew a playful shove. “But I wasn’t expecting ya to be up here.”

Peter chuckled and whispered, most likely so none of Friday’s security cameras would hear him. “I hacked into Friday so my parents wouldn’t know what I was doing. Don’t tell anyone.” 

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “Course not, kid. So long as you’re safe.” 

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, taking pleasure in the twinkling stars and marveling at the swirling colors of the Milky Way. It was beautiful and truly calming.

“Why were you awake?” Asked Peter.

“Not sure.” Bucky sighed heavily, leaning back onto his elbows. “I just couldn’t sleep, I guess.”

Peter’s reply was quiet, nearly inaudible. Had Bucky not had enhanced hearing, he wouldn’t have heard him. “At least it wasn’t a nightmare.” 

The forlorn look on Peter’s sweet and innocent face was heartbreaking. It was apparent to the super-soldier that Peter was speaking from experience, which made it hurt even more. Because living with a traumatic past was one thing, but nightmares were an entirely new monster. The subconscious could twist your thoughts and memories into the most terrifying things imaginable. Things even worse than reality. Nightmares were just another form of torture.

“I’m still afraid of HYDRA.” Came Bucky’s soft admittance. It wasn’t like him to delve into his past with the terrorist group, not willingly anyway. “I know there isn’t much left of ’em. SHIELD and the Avengers made sure of it. But I… I can’t help but think…” he trailed off, gulping harshly. 

The small hand that moved to rest on his own, accompanied by a light squeeze, helped ground him, and he shot his nephew a grateful smile.

“I can’t help but fear that whoever is left... is still looking for me. That I’ll eventually lose myself to their vendetta once again.”

“You’re safe here, uncle Bucky. I know it’s hard to accept,” Peter chuckled humorlessly, “believe me, I know. But I promise we’ll protect you. All of us. We’re a team.” The teen’s voice held nothing but determination and confidence, which warmed the super-soldiers heart.

“That might be true, kid,” he bit his lip, unsure if he should say what he was thinking but eventually managed to push the words out, “but your dad pretty much hates me still. Don’t he?”

Peter just shook his head, a look of deep understanding on his face. “My dad doesn’t hate you. He never did. He was upset and hurt because uncle Steve broke his trust. You just happened to be a part of it at the time.” 

He spread his blanket out and laid back completely, so the twinkling stars illuminated his face. “You’re the physical embodiment of Steve’s betrayal. Something my dad could lash out at. But all of you apologized, and that’s the first step in gaining back someone’s trust.”

A soft, “oh,” was all Bucky managed to spit out. That was… very deep and enlightening. Peter’s intuitive, empathetic, and understanding nature never ceased to amaze him. Taking a deep breath, Bucky leaned back, so he was lying next to his nephew. 

Together, they watched the tapestry of inky blackness and dazzling stars until the sun emerged from its nightly slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rest in power, Chadwick Boseman. You will be forever missed.


	11. It’s all catching up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slowly but surely, the stress of everything is catching up to Peter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone is doing well and staying safe! Please let me know what you think! Your feedback helps me to improve my writing and I love hearing from my readers.

Most people tended to enjoy their lunch breaks. Adults treasured the time away from whatever work they were doing to sit back and relax while enjoying some food. They could avoid their Boss or other co-workers to get some peace and quiet. 

Kids enjoyed the time away from their teachers and the constant bombardment of knowledge. They could chat with their friends, check social media without being reprimanded, complete homework, or even take a nap. 

Peter, however, had conflicting feelings about the traditional lunch period. But he certainly wasn’t an average person.

On the one hand, he got to sit with his friends Ned and MJ. They could discuss whatever they wanted and often used the free period to make plans to hang out or study outside of school. 

It was also an excellent time to feed his enhanced metabolism since his stomach was already gurgling with hunger by the second period. He couldn’t always snack during class because most of his science classrooms were labs. 

But he couldn’t eat the amount of food his body actually needed. If a skinny teen was putting away more food than Captain America, that was sure to raise a few questions. The loud cacophony of noise also bothered Peter. Hearing everyone’s movements, heartbeats, and conversations became too much at times. 

But the noise-canceling earbuds his dad made him did wonders. And the loudness was a good cover for being able to talk unfiltered about his family and extracurricular activities. No one could hear their conversations.

And most kids never bothered with Peter anyway. And Peter didn’t mind being left alone if he was honest. He was used to flying under the radar as both Peter Parker and Spider-Man.

Peter was a genius that enjoyed learning - even though he knew more than all of his teachers combined. The prospect of discussing new theories, concoct experiments, and merely being in a learning environment intrigued him. 

But being so intelligent and introverted automatically made him an outcast among most of the other students. Rather than being popular, he became an unwilling target for those who were jealous, insecure, or cruel in nature.

“Puny Parker!” Flash called as he approached the group of three. “Parker!”

Peter rolled his eyes at Flash’s unimaginative insult that had been thoroughly worn out after years of use. Hunching his shoulders, Peter turned back to his biology homework. He tried his best to appear unbothered by the older teen’s verbal assault.

“What are you freaks doing?” Flash stood right behind Peter, his lunch tray in hand. 

“Studying.” MJ shrugged, not looking away from her book. “Something you should consider doing. If your score on the last physics test is anything to go by. Wouldn’t want to get kicked off of the decathlon team because your grades are low.”

“That’s- how did you know-“ 

“I’m the Captain of decathlon,” MJ snapped, “so I get everyone’s grades and GPA because you have to have a certain level of intelligence to be in decathlon. Your brainpower is what secures your spot on the team and in this school. Or have you forgotten?”

“Then why’s Peter still on the team?” Asked Flash, not picking up on the fact that MJ was getting more and more frustrated. 

Peter opened his mouth to say something to Flash, but MJ sent him a look and shook her head. Gently, MJ set her book down and inserted her bookmark to keep the page. She glared up at Flash and said coolly, “I will not be having this debate with you again. This is the first and last time I am going to say this; go away. Now.”

Flash looked stunned for a moment before his expression turned to one of pure rage. “This is all your fault, Parker!” He spat, before dumping his entire bowl of tomato soup onto Peter’s head and walking away.

Today, as the hot red liquid dripped from his hair and soaked into his white shirt, Peter decided that he did not like lunch very much.

*****************************

“Hey, Parker!”

Peter slammed his locker shut with a heavy sigh. _Why can’t Flash just leave me alone?_ He looked down at the faded red shirt that the nurse let him borrow after Flash ruined his by pouring soup all over it. It got sticky and gross from the soup, so he just threw it out. No use trying to wash it when just smelling the outdated soup made him gag.

“I’m talking to you! Parker! Don’t ignore me.” The older teen stalked over a deep scowl on his face.

“What now, Flash?” Peter couldn’t trouble himself to sound interested or act afraid. He felt a migraine starting and wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep.

The spoiled teen crossed his arms and glared. “You’re the reason that I’m only an alternate in decathlon, and because of you,” he jammed his finger into Peter’s chest, “MJ might kick me off the team.”

“We went over this like… an hour ago,” Peter huffed impatiently, “I am not the one jeopardizing your position on the team. Or your place in this school.” He took a step back, gripping the straps of his backpack tightly. He hoped to be able to walk away and head to his next class. Of course, that didn’t happen.

Flash lashed out and struck Peter in the jaw, knocking him to the floor. “You’re such a liar!” He screeched, drawing everyone’s attention who was in the halls. “Nothing but an orphan freak that nobody wants!”

Peter let himself be punched and yelled at, sensing each hit coming. The physical attacks did nothing to phase him. But the curses, names, and derogatory terms quickly and effectively pierced his skin, cut deeply. 

The cacophony of laughter, jeering, and yelling coming from the dozens of surrounding students began to feel like they were screaming directly into Peter’s ears. The overhead lights became blinding, and the soft cotton shirt felt more like a scratchy burlap sack. 

Everything was amplified. 

Choking back a sob, Peter managed to push himself off the floor. He bolted in a random direction. His only goal was to get away. He needed to get away. After a minute of running blindly, he ended up in the boy’s bathroom. 

Peter fumbled with his phone, his vision blurring in and out as he struggled to dial his dad’s number. Finally, he hit the right button. It rang twice before the billionaire picked up.

“Hey, Pete. What’s up?”

He held the phone away from his over-sensitive ears and managed to stutter a response, his voice small and weak, “please… c-can you… can you come?”

“I’m coming now.” The billionaire’s tone did a complete three-sixty from ‘happy to be talking to my son’ to ‘oh my god, my kid’s hurt!’ “Where are you?”

“Bo-boys bathroom… first floor in the art hallway.”

“Okay. Happy, and I’ll be right there. Do not move, okay? Peter?” When there was no response, he screamed, “Peter?”

*****************************

Tony had to fight off a panic attack as he crouched down on the floor in the boy’s restroom. His son was slouched over in the back of a stall, unconscious. His sweet face was pinched in pain even in sleep.

Carefully, Tony picked up the younger hero and cradled him bridal style against his chest. “I’ve got you, kiddo. I’ve got you.” He mumbled continuously as he rushed out of the school and into the parking lot. No one would have known he was there, but Tony did a quick once over of the surrounding area to make sure no one was watching. If the media got wind that Tony Stark was running out of a high school with an unconscious teenager in his arms… there would be a major shit storm.

Happy held open the door and helped Tony maneuver into the back seat so as not to disturb Peter before climbing into the driver’s seat and speeding back to the tower. It was unnerving to see Peter so quiet and pale.

They arrived at the tower in just under fifteen minutes - thanks to Friday, who hacked all of the traffic lights, so they turned green. Having a nearly all-powerful AI on your side was favorable. Especially in emergencies like this. 

“Buffer room, Friday,” Tony whispered as he stepped into the Avenger’s private elevator while Happy parked the car in the private garage. “Initiate protocol Black-Out.” 

Friday responded quietly. “Should I notify the other Avengers?” 

Tony nodded past the lump in his throat. The elevator doors opened, and he darted out and down one of the empty hallways of the medical floor. The medical staff was always on call if there was an accident in the R&D labs or if any of the Avengers got injured while training or after a mission. 

But ironically enough, Tony was grateful that no nurses or doctors were milling about. Any unnecessary stimulants would only hurt Peter further by assaulting his hypersensitive senses. Even touching Peter during a sensory overload sent him spiraling even further, but Tony had to carry him in order to move him.

Tony punched in the code, mentally cursing himself for having shaky hands and pressing the wrong button, twice. The door slid open, and he gently laid Peter down on the floor. There were no windows or furniture in the buffer room, so Peter could be completely undisturbed while experiencing a sensory overload. 

Reluctantly, he left Peter’s side and exited the room, which became entirely soundproof and pitch black. Heaving a sigh, Tony forced himself to walk away. As much as he wanted to be close to his son, hovering wouldn’t help anything. He knew that Friday would keep an eye out and would alert him should anything change. 

“Is Peter okay?” Bruce asked as he rushed over to Tony as soon as he stepped out of the elevator. The other Avengers were right behind him, concerned beyond belief and eager to get an explanation from the billionaire. When Bruce didn’t see his son, he began to panic more. “Oh my- What happened? Are you okay? Where is he? Is-is he safe? Did someone hurt him or-“ 

He continued to ramble and work himself up until Tony cut him off by yelling, “he’s here, Bruce.” His voice softened once he was sure Bruce was actually listening and no longer freaking out. “He’s in the buffer room sleeping it off.” He decided to leave out the fact that Peter had actually passed out from the pain, not necessarily fell asleep.

Steve’s eyebrows were pinched with worry and concern. He understood what it was like, as an enhanced person, to experience a sensory overload. How debilitating and hurtful they often were. His stomach twisted at the realization that Peter’s senses were heightened even more than his. He looked at the billionaire. “How often does this happen?”

“Maybe once a week,” Tony sighed, squeezing Bruce’s hand, “this one was just nasty, though.”

“What exactly is Black-Out protocol?” Asked Clint.

“It’s a protocol I put into place for when Peter is experiencing sensory overload or if he’s feeling overwhelmed for any reason,” Tony explained. “There’s a room in the med-bay that, when the Black-Out protocol is in place, goes completely black and is one hundred percent soundproof.”

“Peter stays there when his senses are overwhelming him.” Bruce finished, his eyes downcast. 

“Well, how long does this type of thing last?” asked Scott.

“Not too long, usually. But if it’s a particularly bad episode,” Bruce looked to his husband, sharing a silent conversation the others couldn’t decipher, “it could be a few hours. If it’s that bad, he pretty much always passes out and sleeps it off.”

“That’s fucking awful.” Bucky looked about ready to punch someone. “And there’s nothing anyone can do about it?”

“I made him special glasses to block out light and noise-canceling earbuds.” Tony chugged down some apple juice straight from the jug, wiping his mouth before continuing. “But they only work ’bout ninety-three percent of the time.”

Steve gestured to himself then to the other Avengers, his voice filled with concern. “Is there anything we can do?”

Bruce shook his head guiltily and mumbled, “no. We just need to give Peter space.”

“Friday’ll tell us when Peter’s awake.” Tony slammed the fridge shut and took a seat on one of the bar stools beside the kitchen island. He scrubbed a hand down his face. If he hadn’t promised to quit drinking, Tony knew he would’ve had a whole bottle of scotch finished by now. “We can’t do anything but wait.”

*******************

Reluctantly, Peter pulled his eyelids apart, groaning as he did so. It had been a while since he’d experienced a sensory overload that bad. And they absolutely sucked.

“Friday,” he pushed himself into a sitting position, his back against a wall for support, “where’s dad?”

The AI responded quietly, “Boss and the team are on floor eighty-six. They are waiting for you.”

He nodded but instantly regretted it when his vision swam. “Oh… okay. Bad idea.” He found the control panel and entered the deactivation code so the doors would open, and he could leave the buffer room. 

The door slid open just as Friday announced, “Black-Out protocol deactivated. I am glad you are feeling better, Peter.”

“Oh, thanks, Friday. How long was I out?”

“Approximately four hours.”

Peter slowly made his way to the nearest elevator and pressed the up button. He took steady deep breaths in order to keep himself calm. There was no doubt that his parents would be worried, and if Tony explained things to the team, then he’d have a room full of distressed heroes.

The elevator doors opened onto the communal floor, and Peter made his way further down the hall, passing the bathroom and kitchen and finally stopping in the living room archway. He waved to his ogling family, “hi, guys.”

“Are you okay?” Bucky was the first to speak. He approached the teen, arms open for a hug, but he stopped short. “I’m not sure if I should hug-“

“Oh come on, uncle Bucky.” Peter rolled his eyes at the ridiculous question and wrapped his arms around his uncle’s neck. “I’m always available for a hug.”

“You feeling better, sweetheart?” Natasha asked. She kissed her nephew’s cheek and held him close.

“Yeah,” Peter mumbled into her thick red curls. “Thanks, momma.”

“My turn.” Tony maneuvered around the hoard of Avengers and stole their precious treasure. “I’m glad you’re feeling better, Underoos. You had us really worried.”

Bruce joined the hug, standing behind Peter while Tony stood in front, creating a hug sandwich with Peter in the middle. “But I’m so glad you called us.” 

Neither parent could express how relieved they were that Peter had called them for help. Their son was stubborn and very strong-willed. And while they admired Peter’s ability to handle himself in any situation, it was reassuring to know that Peter was willing to ask for help. Reluctantly, but still, it was something.

Having trouble asking for help and accepting help were things Tony, Bruce, and Peter had in common. And they were all trying to work on that.

“What caused the sensory overload?” Steve asked. If there was something he could do to help, he certainly would.

Peter’s cheeks flushed. “Oh um… just the loud noises’ en stuff.”

Natasha shook her head and tutted disapprovingly. “Не забывай, с кем ты говоришь, маленький паук. Там нет смысла лгать.” (Do not forget who you’re talking to, little spider. There is no point in lying.)

“Давай, Пипскейк.” (Come on, pipsqueak.) Murmured Bucky, his voice low and thick. “Tell us the truth.”

“He- it’s no big deal.” The stern eyes of all the Avengers - his family - were locked onto him. 

“It was that Flash kid,” Tony announced, his calm demeanor completely clashing with the utter rage he felt boiling his insides. “He was-

“Just being a jerk.” Peter tried to sound convincing but knew he failed. “Please don’t do anything, dad.”

“He’s not the only one you gotta convince,” Bucky all but growled, “I can think of a dozen ways to kill the brat.”

“I’m with him.” Natasha patted the ex-assassin’s shoulder and smiled devilishly. 

***********************

Tony stalled just outside the doors to his lab. He was undeniably nervous; if his shaky hands, jittery movements, and quickening heartbeat were anything to go by. He inwardly cursed, frustrated with himself for being so transparent when it came to the people close to him. 

Peter could hear a person’s heartbeat from over a mile away and could smell 5x that of a bloodhound. Of course, the teen would sense something was wrong. And the last thing Tony wanted was to upset his son. Especially after yesterday’s incident. 

The billionaire hadn’t slept at all the previous night - he went to bed around 2:00 after making sure Peter came home from patrol safely - and had just laid there, staring at the ceiling. After forcing himself out of bed that morning and idling in the penthouse kitchen for what most people would consider too long before asking Friday where Peter was. He had procrastinated enough.

Which is how he found himself hesitating outside of his lab. He really did not want to do this. Like, really didn’t want to do this. Peter looked so content, tinkering away at his suit with U and Dum-E beeping curiously and watching over him diligently. It was comforting to watch.

“Dad?”

Tony jumped backward, causing his apple juice to splash over onto his hand as he stumbled back. He glared half-heartedly at the smirking figure of his son through the glass.

“Why’re you just standing out here?” Peter asked innocently, a bright smile on his face.

“Just thinking.” Tony could never resist one of his son’s smiles and found himself mirroring Peter’s grin. “What’cha working on?” Tony asked as he entered the lab.

“Just some updates for my suit.” Peter shrugged, giving his dad a quizzical look. “What’s wrong?”

“What makes you think- uh nothing.” The billionaire sputtered, uncharacteristically flustered. “Just came to check on you.” 

Peter leveled him with an unimpressed stare. “You’re a great liar, dad,” he sighed, “but not to me. Not usually anyway. Please tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong, Pete, honest.” He quickly assured the teen and rested his hand on the base of Peter’s neck, his fingers gently tugging at the brown curls. Not knowing how to breach the difficult topic, he settled on, “I just wanted to talk to you about some things. Is that okay?”

“About May and Rick.” It wasn’t a question. Peter wasn’t stupid. He knew what was going on and could always pinpoint Tony’s shifts in mood. So intuitive and perceptive.

Tony sighed, “yeah. I’m sorry but-“

“You don’t gotta explain anything to me, dad.” Peter pulled the two stools out from under the nearest work table and took a seat. He patted the empty stool beside him and smiled. 

Tony sat down with a heavy sigh, not liking the quick shift in Peter’s mood and demeanor. It was like the wind had been knocked out of him. He tried to think of a good way to start the conversation and found that he had absolutely no clue. So he tried to recall some of the discussions he’d had with his therapist and how she broached the touchy subjects.

“How- how do you feel about May?” He tried to take a broader approach but judging by Peter’s unimpressed look that said ‘really,’ he came across as stupid rather than professional. 

“Sorry. That was dumb.” He raked a nervous hand through his hair out of habit. This whole conversation was going down south, and he was making a complete fool of himself.

“You want me to tell you what it was like…. living with May. How she was and what I- how I dealt with,” Peter waved his hands in a grand gesture, “everything.” His lips curled into a soft, reassuring smile.

“Yeah. Um, yeah, that’d work.” Tony nodded. “But only if you’re comfortable with that.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be fully comfortable with it. But that doesn’t really matter at this point.” Peter shrugged unconcernedly, voice sullen. “May became distant at first… after Ben died. She barely looked at me for the first couple of weeks, just stayed in her room.”

Tony stared incredulously. “But you were five-years-old! Who took care of you?”

“I did.” Said Peter simply. “I went to school on the subway, cleaned the apartment, and made what little meals I knew how to. May was grieving.”

“But so were you.” Tony insisted. “Pete, you were just a little kid!”

“Well, that didn’t matter.” Peter snapped. “I was always independent, and I always took care of myself. I have my entire life.”

Guilt immediately washed over the billionaire when he realized how insensitive he was being. Of course, Peter knew that what he went through was horrible. Of course, Peter realized that a kid’s childhood was supposed to be carefree and enjoyable, which certainly wasn’t the case for the young vigilante.

“I’m sorry-”

“Don’t worry, ’bout it, dad.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Anyway, after a week or so, May started to go back to work. One day she came home later than normal. She was so angry and…” he took a shuddering breath, “she pulled me out of bed and proceeded to beat the living snot out of me. The whole time she-she just screamed at me, telling me that Ben’s death was my fault. And that she never wanted me but was now stuck with me.” He rolled his eyes. “Not like it didn’t already know that.”

He fiddled with the sleeves of his shirt, tugging at that one loose thread that always seemed to be there. “That went on for years. May took her anger out on me while I basically assumed the role of her slave. The one thing we both became experts at was pretending that everything was okay.” Peter wiped the stray tears that had managed to fall. “I lied to everyone so much that… it was like… like I was lying to myself as well. I’m not proud of how long it took me to realize that, what was going on in my life… our screwed up relationship and the abuse, that that wasn’t normal.”

“And don’t get me wrong. There is absolutely nothing wrong with not wanting kids or not having kids. I totally get that. I mean, I’m not having kids either. Getting stuck with me was clearly not something my aunt had wanted or planned for.” 

He shrugged and turned his gaze to the floor. “But I-I just don’t understand why May didn’t just put me in the system. Then she wouldn’t’ve had to deal with me.” He pulled his eyes away from the cement floor to look up at his dad. The question in his sweet doe eyes was obvious, but he asked anyway. “So why didn’t she?”

Tony draped an arm across the teen’s narrow shoulders and pulled him flush against his side and rested his chin atop the honey-brown curls. “I don’t know, bud.” He squeezed tighter when he heard Peter sniffle. But he made his son a promise. “That’s what I intend to find out.”


	12. Progress made and questions asked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team struggles to maintain some form of normalcy while Rick’s oppressive force looms over them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m going through a bout of writer’s block. But I’ll do my best to get the next chapter ready or my next scheduled update.
> 
> Not that anyone’s actually eager for updates, (or even reads this) but I wanted to give anyone who bothers to read this crap a heads up. 
> 
> Can you tell I’m in a bad mood :(

“You ready, son?” Steve asked from his spot inside the sparring ring. He was wearing grey sweatpants, a skin-tight tank top, and Nike’s; his usual workout attire. His outfit largely resembled Bucky’s - which Clint made sure to call them out on - except Bucky’s tank top was black, not white.

With the exception of Thor, who was in Norway, Scott, who was still visiting his daughter, and Natasha, who was working in her office, the remaining Avengers were dispersed around the enormous gymnasium going through their daily regimen. Even Tony and Bruce made an appearance. It wasn’t like them to frequent the training rooms, preferring to stick to their labs, but they wanted to keep an eye on Peter.

Tony and Bruce had been hesitant to let Peter train after his sensory overload the day before. They didn’t want their son doing anything too strenuous immediately after he experienced any type of significant injury, particularly a head injury. But after one of the team’s doctors gave the spiderling a clean bill of health, his parents conceded. 

He’d lost seven pounds from missing his usual after-school meal, which worried his family but after countless reassurances of, “my head doesn’t hurt, not even a little bit,” and, “I can eat more today because I’m feeling better and I’ll be hungrier from training,” his parents finally agreed to let him train. It was already bad enough that he wasn’t allowed to go to school that day or go out as Spider-Man that evening. So not being able to do much more than work on homework - which he’d already completed - or being limited to minimal lab work would’ve gotten boring rather quickly. 

“Heck yeah!” Peter cheered excitedly, eager to start sparring. He was physically stronger than both Steve and Bucky combined. The only ones stronger than him were Thor, the Hulk, and Tony’s Hulk buster armor. But he’d never sparred with more than one of his teammates at one time. Today he’d be going up against both super-soldiers at once.

“Please be careful.” Bruce reminded them for the fifth time that hour. He wrung his hands nervously as he stepped from foot to foot, biting his bottom lip. His nervousness was palpable.

“They’ll be fine, honey.” Tony rested a reassuring hand on his husband’s shoulder. “It’s not an actual fight.”

Whenever the heroes trained, dull knives and blunt arrowheads were used. Practices were still very intense and very real, but the goal was not to have any injuries worse than a scrape or bruise. Those with super-strength had to hold back during training sessions unless they were going head-to-head with another enhanced, like what Peter and the two super-soldiers were doing now.

Steve darted forward with his fists up in an attempt to startle Peter and throw him off. He threw a punch that Peter easily deflected and tried to sweep the teen off his feet with his leg. 

While Peter tried to jump out of the way, Bucky threw his arms out in an attempt to grab Peter and pin him. But Peter dodged mid-air, twisting around in impossible ways to avoid the attack.

With the help of his spider-sense, Peter dodged or deflected all of the rapid punches, kicks, and other attacks thrown at him. Unless he was training with Natasha - who forced him to go on the offensive line - or fighting non-sentient beings in the field, Peter usually stuck to defense, not keen on actually hurting anyone too badly. 

Their fight carried on for about twenty minutes before Peter completely turned the tables. 

Changing tactics, both super-soldiers charged Peter at once from opposite sides. Seeing that Steve was slightly closer, Peter darted forward and grabbed Steve’s leg that was raised. He lifted Steve up and swung him by his legs, screaming “yeet,” and threw him into Bucky, which caused them both to fall to the floor in a tangled heap.

“Holy shit!” Tony cheered, pumping his fists. “That was awesome! Friday, please tell me you got that on video.”

“I did, Boss.” Friday almost sounded as if she, too, was amused.

Sam ran over to the edge of the sparring ring and pointed at Bucky. “You just got wrecked.”

“You, mother fucker.” Bucky shoved a slightly-startled Steve off himself and made a move to grab Sam by the collar of his shirt. When Sam stepped back out of reach, Bucky settled for flipping him off.

“That was a great move, kiddo.” Steve praised, tossing Bucky and his nephew a water bottle. He downed the entire bottle before continuing. “How about we keep going, see if you can get the drop on us again?”

Peter couldn’t help but agree.

*************

“Alright, everyone,” Steve called in his Captain’s voice, “that’s enough training for today.” After nearly four hours of sparring and hand to hand combat with Bucky and Peter, he decided to call it a day. Clint had plenty of target practice, Sam had gotten an entire body workout in, and after watching a few more rounds, Tony had decided to teach Bruce some Thai Chi. Everyone deserved a break.

“Oh come on.” Sam dropped the barbells he’d been using to the side and glared at Steve from his position beside the weights along the far wall. He pointed to the sizable home-made poster above his head and gestured to the three identical ones spread throughout the gym. Each poster read _a_ _six-hour workout and training limit,_ in brightly colored bubble letters. 

“You gave us a six-hour workout limit. It’s only been a few hours.”

An arrow flew over everyone’s heads and struck the poster closest to Steve. The arrow landed dead-center in the bottom loop of the number six. Clint shimmied down the column supporting the upper-level balcony where the archery range was.

“I’m siding with my fellow bird on this one.” He smirked at Sam, who only rolled his eyes. 

“I know it’s only been a few hours, but since Peter’s staying home today, I thought it’d be nice to spend some time together as a team. Instead of just training or being off doing our own things.” 

Keeping Peter busy so he wouldn’t ruminate on why his parents kept him home as well as keeping him distracted while Tony and Natasha worked out the details for an interview with May went unsaid. 

The team decided yesterday after Peter had gone to bed - Tony actually had to carry him to bed after he fell asleep on the mechanic after dinner - that they’d try to make the day as enjoyable as possible. Even though he refused to admit it, Rick’s increasing presence was really bothering the teen, and the team knew it.

Bucky effortlessly hopped out of the sparring ring and landed on Steve’s right. “We’re done, end of discussion.” He crossed his arms and glared at his teammates, daring them to argue. 

Clint’s snide remark about the Captain being a mom died on his lips the moment Bucky’s gaze fell on him. Even with a man-bun and cute magnets on his arm, Bucky could still be terrifying when he wanted to be.

“Let’s get some lunch,” Tony said. “It’s nearly 12:00, so I’m sure everyone is at least a little bit hungry.” He pulled out his phone and began typing on it. “I’ll order Thai, so no one has to cook.”

The promise of food was enough to persuade everyone to leave their weights and weapons behind. They all gathered in the Avengers’ private elevator and got off on their respective floors. 

In the time it took for the massive food order to arrive, everyone had showered, changed into clean clothes, and gathered on floor eighty-six in the communal kitchen. 

Bruce passed out the bursting containers - Peter, Bucky, and Steve each got a whole box of takeout for themselves, which they promptly dug into - before sitting down next to his husband and began eating himself.

“You’ve got some really great moves,” Clint said proudly, his fingers lightly tugging at his nephew’s curls. “Kicked all our asses. How’d you know to go for Steve’s legs?”

Peter’s smile grew, and in an abysmal German accent, he said, “I shot him in ze legs because his shield is ze size of a dinner plate, and he’s an idiot.”

“Ha! Oh my-” Tony doubled over, laughing hysterically. “Hahaha! That so- that’s so goddamn funny!” He gasped for breath and was forced to put one hand on the counter for support. “I’m gonna pee.”

Steve looked down, forlornly at his shield, which was leaned up against the wall. Bucky rested a hand on his friend’s shoulder in solidarity, although there was an equally large shit-eating grin on his face.

“It’s just a vine reference, uncle Steve.” Peter patted the man’s bicep. “I’m just joking around. You’re not an idiot.”

“Oh, okay. That’s reassuring.” The super-soldier sighed in relief. He’d heard Peter talk about these funny short videos called vines on multiple occasions but had yet to watch one himself.

“You done yet, honey?” Bruce asked his husband, huffing a laugh at the billionaire’s antics.

Wiping a tear away, Tony righted himself. “Yeah, hon. I’m done.” He grinned at the Captain. “Sorry, Rogers, but that was hilarious.”

“It’s fine, Tony.” He shook his head and smiled. “I think Clint,” he nudged the snickering archer, “enjoyed it too. Right, Clint?”

“Hell yeah,” Clint exclaimed, a grin just as large as Tony’s plastered onto his face. 

Tony opened his mouth as if to say something but shut it when his phone vibrated. He fished his battered Stark phone out of his front pocket and unlocked it. His eyebrows scrunched up as he read whatever notification he got. “I’ll... be right back.” 

“Aw.” The look of disappointment on Peter’s face crushed the billionaire’s heart. “But I thought you were free today, dad. Didn’t aunt Pepper say-“

“It’s not for SI, bud.” Tony quickly supplied, hoping Peter wouldn’t pick up on the lie. “Your aunt Natasha wants to talk to me about SHIELD business.” He placed a chaste kiss on Bruce’s lips and Peter’s forehead - something he always did before leaving, no matter where he was going. “We’ll just be up on her floor. Have Friday get me if you need anything.”

Peter tried his best to hide his disappointment. He’d been looking forward to spending time with his dad. Business never stopped moving, and Tony was oftentimes busy, whether it was Avengers and SHIELD stuff or something in regards to SI. But he seemed even more preoccupied than usual, and Peter knew it was his fault. 

“Oh, okay.” He forced a smile. “We’ll see you later, then?”

“Of course, kiddo. We’ll be up in time for movie night.” Tony did his best to sound reassuring but found it incredibly difficult when he himself was fighting back tears. He wanted to spend time with his team with his family. But instead, he had to put much of his time and effort into dealing with his child’s abusers rather than being with Peter himself. But even when he got time to be with Peter in the lab, training, or doing anything really, the fear and frustration of this entire situation overshadowed them. He knew the rest of the team were experiencing similar feelings.

Tony exited the elevator onto Natasha and Clint’s shared floor and immediately headed to Natasha’s office, where she did most of her research. It was a decent-sized room that was illuminated by two large, floor-to-ceiling windows, multiple high-tech computers sat along the far wall, beside the computers, a colossal bulletin board with countless notes pinned up on it covered the wall.

“I got your text,” Tony said as he walked into the room. “Thanks for that, by the way. It’s better that Peter doesn’t know what we’re doing.”

“I figured the same thing.” Natasha looked over her shoulder and smiled.

“Judging by the smug look on your face, I’m gonna assume you found what you were looking for.”

“That and more.” Her look turned devilish as she held out a thick file to her teammate. 

Tony said nothing as he began paging through the file marked May Parker. It contained her health records, school records, and criminal records along with her credit card history, employment history, and any other form of information available. Everything was there.

“You’re amazing, Romanov.”

She smirked, “tell me something I don’t already know.”

“I mean… it’s all here!” He exclaimed excitedly as he continued to page through the contents of the file. “Everything we could possibly need to do a retrial.”

“For May, at least.” Natasha sat back down in her office chair and crossed her legs daintily. “The number of misdemeanors and arrests she’s acquired alone would be enough to incriminate her further.”

“Even if she acted out because of her mental illnesses?” He pulled out one of the most recent medical records so he could read it thoroughly. It was a differential diagnosis form that was dated from over nine years ago. And sure enough, at the bottom of the paper, it read:

_Diagnosis Results: bipolar affective disorder (BPAD), bipolar depression (BD), and reactive attachment disorder (RAD)_

_Medication prescribed: Aripiprazole (Abilify), Olanzapine (Zyprexa)_

_Therapies recommended: cognitive behavioral therapy, residual anger treatments, couples counseling, and family therapy_

“Yes, even if it was caused by her mental illness.” Natasha had read over every single piece of information available on May Parker, and she knew what Tony was referring to. “She skipped out on check-ups and abused her medication. Even if she isn’t sent back to prison, she will be locked up in a mental facility.”

“Couples counseling and family therapy,” Tony read aloud, “I wonder why that was recommended… and how Ben reacted.”

“I wondered the same thing. So I researched Ben Parker. But there was no mention of May except for their marriage certificate, wedding, and any purchases they made together, such as the apartment they used to reside in.” She pursed her lips as she ran through all the information in her head and tried to formulate an answer. 

“I think May cleaned up her act some before Ben came into her life. Or while they were dating, at least. That would explain the abrupt cut off of her treatment.”

“Having someone you truly love is enough of a reason to get clean. No matter what issues you’re going through.” Tony knew this to be true because he could speak from experience. Having someone that genuinely cared about you was a great form of motivation.

“Or.” Natasha countered, her expression contemplative.

His eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. “Or?” 

“She cut off treatment to appear stable in front of Ben.” At Tony’s silence, she continued. “Judging by her records, she was never good at dealing with her health issues, especially as an adult. How could she become perfectly healthy within a few months after years of struggling? There’s just no way. And even if that was the case, what doctor completely cuts off someone’s medication intake for a lifelong illness? She would’ve had to have stopped all of it herself.” 

Tony dropped the folder down onto the nearby table and leaned back against the wall, facing Natasha. “You think she put on an act to fool Ben?”

“I know she did.” Her confidence could be seen through her body language and heard through her tone. “But only once we meet with her will we know for sure.”

Tony perked up at that. “You got an appointment!”

“Fury set it up under the disguise of a civil rights investigator wanting to ensure that May is being treated properly as an inmate. Next Friday at 12:00 p.m. sharp, we have a private appointment with May Parker at the Queen’s detention facility.”

“This is great!” Tony’s mood immediately lightened at this positive step forward. “I can contact the lawyers tonight then and notify Pepper of a possible retrial and-“

“Peter would need to testify if we want Rick to face jail time.” Natasha’s voice softened slightly as Tony’s expression fell. “There’s no evidence against him and nothing in his records. Peter’s testimony as the victim is all we have.” 

“I- yeah. Bruce and I know.” He scratched the back of his neck and refused to look Natasha in the face, his eyes going anywhere else. “But…”

“Does Peter know you and Bruce are planning on a retrial?” Tony’s silence and guilty look were answer enough. “Tony,” she started, her voice stern, “you can not keep Peter in the dark. At least not fully. You know how hurt he’s going to feel when he finds out you’ve been planning things, in regards to him, behind his back. And he will find out. There is no _if_ , it’s a matter of _when_.”

“I know, I know.” Tony threw his hands up in exasperation. “But you know Peter, Nat. He’s just going to worry about the team and feel guilty about everything that’s going on. I can’t put that extra pressure on him!”

Natasha stood up and stalked closer to the billionaire, who shrunk back under her steely gaze. “He already feels that extra pressure, Tony! Nothing we do is going to take that away because Peter loves us. He’s always going to worry, and he’s always going to put himself down because of how selfless he is. Hiding things will just break his trust. Besides,” she crossed her arms across her chest, “you and Bruce promised us at the last team meeting that you would talk to Peter about our plans.”

“Look, I know you’re upset. And I know the rest of the team is going to be equally pissed off.” He held his hands out in a gesture of surrender. “But, Bruce and I made the decision to filter the information we gave Peter, at least for right now. We’ll explain everything to him after we,” he gestured between Natasha and himself, “and the rest of the team have everything set.”

Natasha sighed and rubbed her temples. “Tony, I know you want this to work. And I admire your optimism, I really do. But there is no guarantee we’ll be able to secure a retrial. Clearly, Rick has friends in high places and has been planning… whatever this is, for a while now. And if we do get a retrial, I have no doubt that Rick would try to sabotage it. Even with Peter’s testimony.”

“Yes, but-“

“And we have absolutely no right to ask that much from Peter. He has been through enough as it is. Especially if there’s no guarantee of fair play.”

Tony opened and closed his mouth three times before snapping it shut. He couldn’t argue with that because he knew that Natasha was right. It wasn’t like him to be so hopeful, especially in a situation like this. He learned long ago never to get his hopes up because when you open yourself up, you’re only setting yourself up for disappointment. But he supposed Bruce’s optimism was rubbing off on him. He internally scuffed. What _a horrible time for that to happen._

“Just don’t get ahead of yourself, okay?” She rested a delicate hand on Tony’s shoulder in a rare display of affection. “I want things to go smoothly too. We all do. But we need always to keep a level head.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I-“he sighed heavily and rubbed a hand down his face before turning to the spy, “thanks for your help.” His smile was small, verging more on the side of a grimace, but Natasha accepted it warmly. It wasn’t often that the great Tony Stark allowed himself to get emotional in front of anyone besides his husband and child. 

She chuckled. “Of course, Tony.”

***********************

Not long after lunch was finished and about an hour after Tony left, Friday notified the team of visitors. “Thor and Loki have just arrived. Boss has told me to send them to floor eighty-six.”

“Okay, Friday. Thank you.” Steve said as he and Peter put the rinsed dishes into the dishwasher. The soldier looked at the ceiling whenever he spoke to the AI, a habit Bucky and Thor had as well.

Bruce wrapped his arm across his son’s narrow shoulders and pulled him into his side. “I hope you don’t mind that I asked them to come.” He said sincerely. “I just thought they’d be another wall of support.”

Peter shook his head and grinned. “Of course, I don’t mind.” He chuckled when his mom visibly relaxed. “You know I love uncle Thor and uncle Loki.”

“Trickster still makes me nervous.” Clint huffed, crossing his arms tightly across his chest.

“He was being brainwashed,” Steve said, his eyes briefly flitting to Bucky then back to the archer. “He wasn’t acting on his own volition when he attacked Earth. I think the least we can do is give him a second chance.”

After a moment of contemplation, Clint conceded with a slow nod. Despite his reputation as an assassin and spy, he was also fair and believed in giving people the benefit of the doubt.

“Besides, Loki helped Thor and the other Asgardians kill Thanos and the Black Order,” Bruce added. “That alone indicates that Loki has sought to redeem himself.”

“I’m not so sure about that. He could’ve just been tryin’ to save his own skin.”

“At least we have one less threat to worry about,” said Sam. “One less intergalactic maniac, the better. We’ve got enough psychos here on Earth to deal with.”

“Hello, my friends!” Thor greeted his extended family warmly - as he always did whenever he visited. “I apologize for our tardiness,” he clapped his brother on the shoulder, “my brother locked himself in the Pegasus stable.”

“I told you, brother,” Loki pushed away from Thor and straightened out his robes, “Valkyrie locked me in and took the keys with her.”

“It is perfectly alright to make mistakes.” Thor tutted. “There is no need to blame someone else.”

Loki’s eyes flashed bright green in anger. “I am telling the truth, thot.”

Peter clutched his abdomen as he laughed. “Holy- oh my god!” 

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “This is what we get for letting a gen-z kid teach Thor and Loki about human customs and slang.”

“What-what’s a thot?” Steve asked his nephew.

“It’s just a vine reference, uncle Steve.” He pulled out his phone and pulled up YouTube. “Until dad and aunt Tasha get back, how ’bout I introduce you to this amazing thing called YouTube?” 

**************

“Hey, guys,” Tony called as he and Natasha exited the elevator and entered the common room where the team was seated. “Where’s Peter?”

“In the kitchen with Loki,” Bruce said as he took his husband’s hand.

“Have you made any progress?” Steve asked quietly, banking on the hope that Loki was keeping his nephew busy so Peter wouldn’t pick up on the conversation they were having in the living room.

The rest of the team looked to the spy and billionaire for a response. They knew what the SHIELD meeting had actually been about, and while none of them liked keeping Peter in the dark, they hoped that soon they would be able to fill the teen in on what they’d been working on.

“Lots of progress. We-“ she paused when she heard footsteps approaching and giggling, “we can have a meeting tomorrow.” 

Steve, along with the rest of the team, nodded. “Alright. Sounds like a good plan. We’ve gotta update Thor and Loki anyway.”

At that moment, Peter came charging around the corner, laughing like a mad-man. A massive black and white saber-toothed tiger with iridescent green eyes - which the team knew to be Loki - was trotting behind him. 

“What’cha got there, bud?” Tony asked when he noticed a small shiny object in his son’s hand.

Peter turned around, held up the object proudly, and yelled, “a knife!”

“No!” Tony and Bruce screamed simultaneously. Both men immediately jolted forward to try and catch their son.

Bruce turned around and yelled at the Smilodon, “why would you give Peter a knife?”

There was a flash of green, and Loki appeared in his Asgardian form. “Every young man needs a knife, so I have gifted him one. It is most helpful in self-defense.” He shrugged. “Both my brother and I received daggers at a young age.”

Bruce looked to the rest of his teammates for support, but they were either too busy laughing at the scene before them or agreed with the god’s reasoning. None of that surprised him, though, considering all of the heroes had been desensitized to weapons - both alien and earthly - long ago. His teammates’ looks of amusement did frustrate him, though.

“Got it.” Tony managed to choke out while gasping for breath. He glared at his son - who was not tired out in the slightest - standing quietly beside him; his lips pulled into a pout. “Why… were you running… with a fu- freaking knife?”

“Uncle Loki and I were just messing around. I was careful.”

“Pft yeah. Okay.” Tony inspected the weapon in his hand and couldn’t help but admire the detailed intricacies of the handle and small designs on the blade itself. “Running with a huge knife is totally safe.”

There was a bright flash, and Loki appeared between the two Starks. “Don’t worry, Stark,” he plucked the knife from Tony’s hand and carefully handed it back to his nephew, “I will teach Peter how to wield it properly. And when I am not around, surely Mr. Barnes and Miss Romanov can step in.” 

Tony looked to the ex-assassins, who both nodded in unison. With a heavy sigh, he relented, “fine. You can keep the dagger. But no more running around with it unless you’re training. Got it?”

Peter grinned happily. “Okay. Thanks, dad.”

“Now that everything is settled, let us begin the movie!” Thor raised his large glass of Pepsi in commemoration. The god was enamored with the bubbly drink and consumed gallons of it whenever he visited. “I am very much looking forward to watching Jurassic World and learning some Midgardian games.”

Steve chuckled at his friend’s eagerness but couldn’t deny that he was also looking forward to watching the movie. His nephew had been introducing him to new-age movies, books, games, and music. Some of it was hard to understand, but he enjoyed the learning process and how thoughtful, and patient Peter was with him and Bucky.

“Bucky and I made cookies,” Steve said as he gestured to one of the large platters piled high with freshly baked peanut butter cookies on the coffee table. Three bowls were filled with buttery popcorn, one with pretzels, and another with party mix. Five one-liter-bottles of soda and disposable eco-friendly cups sat beside the snacks. 

“You guys sure take your movie and game nights seriously,” Bucky chortled, swiping a couple of pretzels. “Not that I’m complainin’.”

“Hell yeah.” Clint nodded. “Food and entertainment are important. Especially when you’ve got hectic lives like we do.”

Sam pulled a stack of various board games from the cabinet underneath the tv and set them on the floor beside the loaded coffee table. He read the names aloud as he went through them. “What’cha guys wanna play first? Sorry, Clue, Twister, Monopoly-“

“It doesn’t matter what we play so long as it ain’t Monopoly.” Bucky shoved the aforementioned game to the side. “No one is ever gonna beat you, Stark.”

Said billionaire smirked proudly. “You said it, snowflake.”

“I don’t care what we play so long as I get the remote,” Clint said as he pulled the remote out of Natasha’s hand. Everyone froze, glancing between the two spies nervously. 

“Give me the remote, Clinton,” Natasha warned.

Clint wiggled his eyebrows and smirked. “That’s not normally how women say my name.”

Everyone was expecting to see Clint on the floor in a headlock or with a gun pointed directly at his face - whether he would be unconscious or not depended on how merciful Natasha felt like being. 

But instead, she just smirked and said, “don’t worry, I’ll make sure to sound more disappointed next time.”

Everyone positively lost it, whooping and hollering as Clint collapsed to the floor in shame.

Peter gave his aunt a high-five. “Это было удивительно, мамочка паук.” (That was amazing, momma spider.) 

“Спасибо, милая.” (Thanks, sweetie.) Natasha’s said kindly, placing a kiss on her baby spider’s forehead. Her demeanor hardened as soon as she turned to her fallen opponent wallowing on the floor. “Remote.” Wordlessly, Clint handed Natasha the remote.

“Oh, Tony,” Sam spoke once everyone had calmed down and chosen a seat, “whatever happened to that little brat that bullied my nephew? You said you were going to take care of it on your own.”

“To which we reluctantly agreed,” Bucky mumbled.

“I had Friday hack the school’s security footage and showed all the videos of Fash bullying Peter to the principal.” He rolled his eyes at the unimaginative nickname, “kid’s real name is Eugene, by the way. Little bastard got a week of in-school suspension and a month of after school detention.”

The team cheered and voiced their approval, happy that the little creep who hurt their nephew was paying the price. Peter, however, wasn’t as pleased.

“What! No, dad. Flash is going to be so pissed.” He pulled at the cuffs of his hoodie out of habit. 

“I know, kiddo. But I honestly don’t care.” Tony leaned back against the sofa, pulling Peter back with him, so the younger hero was pressed against his side. “That kids a piece of shi- er trash. You don’t deserve to have to deal with him on top of everything else.”

“Besides,” Natasha pulled out the knife she always kept on her person and twirled it around her fingers, “we actually wanted to kill him.”

“Oh my god,” Peter face-palmed.

His aunt chuckled, “But we knew you would disapprove, Милая. (Sweetheart) So we settled for school punishments instead.”

“Okay, don’t get me wrong. I really appreciate that you all care. Like seriously, it means a lot.” Peter continued to pull at his sleeves until Bruce and Tony each took one of his hands and began massaging them. “But… this isn’t going to stop him from picking on me.”

“No, probably not.” Bruce agreed. “But if he does try anything, we’ll know.”

Natasha grinned. “And we will take care of it.” 

Peter couldn’t help but smile at his family. Their love for him was unending, and he would always welcome it. “I wish you could block people in real life.” A self-deprecating chuckle left his lips. “That would make things so much easier.”

To which Tony replied, “restraining order.” 

Natasha pulled out a gun from who-knows-where and, with an innocent smile, said, “murder.” 


	13. Tough conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on out I no longer have an updating schedule. I've been feeling rushed lately and I'm incredibly unhappy with how that has negatively impacted my writing, particularly the past 8 chapters of this story. My writing has less detail and a lower quality when I try to rush myself because I simply don't give myself time to create a good story. The pressure to continuously pump out new chapters has also made writing more stressful and no longer a fun hobby that I enjoy. I'm changing that. 
> 
> So, from now on I'll only be posting chapters when I deem them to be ready and I'll be posting whatever story I happen to be working on.
> 
> I can't promise fast updates because I have other priorities in my life which only allow me to write at certain times. But I can promise that every story I write will be completed at some point.

“Boss,” Friday interrupted her creator as he tinkered in his lab one afternoon, “there is something you need to see.” There was a sense of urgency in her voice that didn’t go unnoticed by the billionaire.

Tony set his welding torch aside and pulled off his welding mask. He walked over to his desk in the center of the room, grabbing a grease-stained rag on his way over to wipe his hands. “What’s going on, baby girl?” He asked, pulling up a hologram and letting Friday take it from there.

The AI pulled up one of the local news websites on the projection screen. “A public statement was just released from the Chief of police.” 

Tony froze, completely dreading what he was about to hear. “Play the video.”

The screen came to life as a video of Rick began to play. He was standing behind a podium outside of the Forest Hills police station flanked by multiple police officers. Dozens of reporters were standing nearby, snapping pictures, and a large crowd of civilians stood around to listen.

“Hello, everyone. I appreciate that you took the time out of your busy schedules to attend this event.” He greeted everyone with his sickly sweet persona. “I had mentioned, in a statement weeks ago, that the police would be monitoring the vigilante known as Spider-Man. Due to some concerning variables, I have concluded. So, as of 9:00 a.m. this morning, the vigilante known as Spider-Man is considered a criminal by law.”

There was a collective gasp from the crowd, which immediately broke out into murmurs and concerned whispers. The reporters began firing off questions, but Rick held up his hands for silence.

“If you have any information regarding the identity or whereabouts of Spider-Man, you are encouraged to contact your local authorities. We will answer no questions at this point. Have a good day.” 

“Holy shit.” Tony dropped down onto the nearest stool, too shaken up to do anything else, even to remain standing. He, along with the rest of the team, had been hoping that this wouldn’t happen. Rick was sneaky, so they were all expecting that he would’ve taken a more subtle approach that wouldn’t have drawn the public’s eye.

“Boss,” Friday spoke up gently, “should I send Mr. Hogan to pick Peter up from school?”

After a few moments, he responded, “oh uh, yeah.” He still felt numb from learning that his son was wrongfully labeled as a criminal. 

“Mr. Hogan has been notified of the situation and is leaving now. I sent an email to principal Morita telling him that Peter has a last-minute doctor’s appointment.”

Tony nodded, his bearings quickly coming back to him. “That’s a good idea. Pete would’ve seen the update on social media, so he likely knows what’s going on. Besides, I want him home.”

This was the absolute last thing Peter needed to deal with. Now, everything was a lot more complicated.

**************************

“As you can see,” Ron Swanson, a famous local reporter, pointed over towards the large mass of people congregated around the Forest Hills police department, “many civilians do not agree with the newest decree from Queen’s chief of police, Rick Donavon.”

The crowd could be heard chanting, praising their hero Spider-Man. There were dozens of signs raised to the sky, all colored red and blue in honor of the vigilante. Children were wearing paper-plate masks and Spider-Man costumes. Most adults wore other types of Spider-Man merchandise, such as t-shirts and hats. Some were even in full costume.

“They are all very pumped up as you can see,” Ron spoke into the camera as he approached the large group. He held the microphone out to a young boy standing at the edge of the crowd with a young man. “What’s your name, young man?”

“Nick.” The little boy waved shyly at the camera’s pointed towards him then pointed to the man standing beside him. “This is my brother, Jamie.”

“Well hello there, Nick and Jamie.” Ron smiled warmly at them. “I was wondering if you could tell me why you are here protesting?”

“Because Spider-Man isn’t a bad guy,” Jamie said with pure conviction. “He hasn’t done anything but help the people of Queens for years.”

Ron nodded in agreement. “Do you think the police are being a bit rash with their decision to arrest the vigilante?”

“For sure,” Jamie nodded. “They haven’t even released why they want to arrest Spider-Man. Sounds a little fishy, if you ask me.”

“Yeah!” Nick cut in, reaching for the microphone that Ron quickly pulled back so the little boy couldn’t grab it. “My mommy and daddy said that people who don’t like Spider-Man are just prejuice against mutants.”

“Prejudice.” Jamie clarified, chuckling at how his younger sibling couldn’t pronounce the word. He shook his head, suddenly becoming very somber. “Just because you’re different does not mean you’re dangerous.”

“Do you think the chief of police, and or other police officers, do not like Spider-Man because he’s a mutant?” Asked Ron.

“Hell yeah!” An older woman carrying a large sign yelled. “There’s more goin’ on here. And I, for one, want answers!” Her protest created an uproar in the already boisterous crowd.

Ron turned back to the cameras and wrapped up his report. “The common question that we can not seem to find an answer for is, why are the Avengers and X-Men largely accepted by civilians worldwide, the police and armed forces, despite the unique skills and powers those individuals possess, but Spider-Man is not? Back to you-“

The screen went black as the tv shut off. Tony set the remote on the coffee table and shot his son a disappointed look. “You shouldn’t be watching that stuff.” He chastised.

“I want to know what’s going on.” Peter protested, reaching for the remote.

Tony held the remote out of reach of the teen. “Uh-huh. Well, nothing has changed since yesterday.” It had already been three days since Rick’s chilling announcement. Tony wasn’t sure if he should be relieved or worried that Rick had yet to make another appearance. “Instead of checking the news as soon as you get home from school, how ’bout you take care of yourself and eat something. We cannot have you losing weight.”

“I told him the same thing.” Bruce lightly flicked his son’s ear as he came around from the penthouse kitchen, a large bowl of chili in hand. He set the bowl in Peter’s lap and handed him a spoon. “Eat this,” he ordered. “Then we’ll head down to my lab together.”

“Okay,” Peter relented, giving into his gurgling stomach.

“I’m heading out,” Tony said, pointedly setting the remote on the small cabinet beneath the tv, far from where Peter was seated. At his family’s concerned look, he explained, “I just need a little fresh air. Gonna grab a coffee or something. I’ll be back in an hour.”

Bruce got up and hugged his husband. “Just be careful, okay?” 

“Aren’t I always?” Tony smirked. 

“No, you’re not.” Peter pointed at him with the spoon. “Remember the time you set the lab on fire? And the kitchen and the-“

“Ah okay. I get it.” Tony’s eye roll couldn’t be seen behind the sunglasses he had on. He slipped on an old pair of sneakers he always left by the hallway entrance and one of his MIT hoodies; his usual disguise for going out in public. “Listen to your mom, Peter.”

“Will do.” Peter waved. “Try not to draw attention to yourself.”

Tony rolled his eyes and smirked. “I can’t help that people love me.”

***************

Tony sipped his coffee as he walked down the busy sidewalks of Manhattan, just taking in the sights. It wasn’t often that he went out in public by himself, voluntarily, that is. Crowds, odd smells, and people in general just weren’t for him. 

But there were too many things going on that hit too close to home. So he elected to step out of the Tower, his safe haven, to get some fresh air. And a coffee, the caffeinated kind, something he hadn’t had in months. That decaffeinated crap Steve bought, insisting it was healthier, was a poor substitute for the usual drink.

“Boss,” Friday spoke up through his nanotechnology glasses, “I don’t think Peter or Dr. Banner would approve of your beverage choice.” She was, of course, referring to the delicious hazelnut coffee the mechanic was nursing. “I do believe you promised to no longer drink coffee or any other caffeine-laden drinks.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Eh, what they don’t know won’t hurt ’em.” He took a long, drawn-out sip of the heavenly drink, making sure to savor every drop. His peaceful moment was cut short when his phone started to ring. “Damn it,” he cursed, “just the asshole I wanna talk to.” He accepted the call and put on his businessman’s facade.

“Mr. Stark.” The deputy commissioner spoke obnoxiously loud into the speaker, forcing Tony to hold his cell phone away from his face.

“Hello, Mr. Norman.” Tony spoke as he walked. A little less kindly, he asked, “what can I do for you?”

“I have called to notify you that two of the police drones from the Queen’s bureau have gone missing.”

Tony nearly choked on his coffee. He coughed and sputtered as he tried to process what he’d just been told. _How the fuck did two multimillion-dollar drones just disappear?_ Those drones could be used as deadly weapons, not only to patrol and monitor suspicious characters.

The mechanic had millions of defense drones at his disposal - all of which were stored in satellites orbiting the planet - which he alone could control. He had entrusted twenty of those drones along with their own separate server to the police, four drones for each of the five bureaus of New York. 

“Another has also been damaged.” Mr. Norman continued, seemingly unbothered by this problematic situation. 

“How did this happen?” His confusion quickly turned to anger. “Mr. Clearwater assured me that the location of the drones would be monitored at all times. Nothing should’ve been able to approach the drones without their sensors going off. It’s not like you can just sneak up on them!”

“We are in the process of investigating. It has only been four days so-“

“Four days!” Tony’s outburst earned him some odd looks from people passing by. He quickly banked off to the right towards the nearest alleyway for some privacy. Once he was sure no one was still watching him, he continued to grill the deputy commissioner. “Why was I not notified immediately? That was a part of the agreement. Don’t forget that the drones are technically mine. The NYPD is only renting them.”

“I volunteered to oversee this investigation, Mr. Stark, and I felt it was more important to begin searching for any evidence before bothering you.” 

“Before bothering me,” scuffed Tony, “you just didn’t want to get me involved.”

“Now listen here, Mr. Stark,” the deputy commissioner’s tone went from a combination of cranky and listless to flat out furious, “I do not appreciate your accusations. I am doing my best to-“

“Well, clearly, you’re not doing your best if two high-tech security drones are still missing!” Tony rolled his eyes and began his trek back to the Tower. “All of the police drones are connected to a server, which I gave to the commissioner. Each drone has a tracking chip installed in their hard drive. Has no one attempted to locate them using that?”

“Yes,” Mr. Norman ground out, “we have already looked into that. But neither drone showed up. Which would mean-“

“That someone removed the tracking chip.” Tony cut Mr. Norman off again, knowing full well it pissed the man off. _I’m just going to do some digging myself. Incompetent idiots. No wonder people get pissed off with the police._

“I know that and I-“

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Avengers Tower was just down the block, and Tony was suddenly feeling very eager to get back inside and away from all the pedestrians surrounding him, “I don’t want to hear any more of your excuses. I’ll have an SI employee pick up the damaged drone so I can repair it. Then I’ll look into the case myself.” 

Mr. Norman started to say something else, but Tony had already hung up. Going into speed-dial, he selected Peter’s number.

_‘You are my dad, boogie, woogie, woogie. You are my dad, boogie, woogie, woogie.’_ Peter grinned, knowing exactly who was calling him from the set ringtone. “Hey, dad.” He chirped happily. 

“Hey, Underoos.” Tony smiled to himself, unaware of the large group of reporters standing outside the Tower’s front entrance. “I just wanted to let you know that I’m almost home.” _And that I need to talk to you about a retrial and if you would testify._

“Okay. Did you have a nice walk?”

“Of course.” He wasn’t about to worry Peter about his previous conversation regarding the missing drones. “I just-“

“Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark!” At least a dozen reporters surrounded the billionaire at once, each one calling his name and asking random questions. Multiple cameras and microphones were pushed into his face.

“What are your thoughts on Chief Donovan’s announcement in regards to the possible arrest of Spider-Man?”

“Do you think Spider-Man should be treated differently by armed forces because he is a mutant?”

“Do the Avengers have any affiliation with the vigilante?”

“What are your thoughts on Spider-Man and his contributions to society?”

“Should Spider-Man be arrested because of his status as a vigilante?”

Tony looked into the camera nearest to him and spoke loud and clear. He wanted everyone to know where he and the team stood. “Spider-Man is nothing but a hero, and he should not be punished for being the underdog. He sacrifices his own life every time he steps out onto the streets of New York. And while he is not an Avenger, we, the Avengers, still hold him in very high regard. I think Chief Donavon,” he spit out the man’s name in disgust, “has made a grave mistake.”

The reporters continued to shout questions and take pictures, but Tony ignored them, pushing through the tight group of vultures and disappeared into the Tower where he knew the paparazzi would never follow.

******************

Peter’s slender fingers moved methodically as he worked, twisting nuts and bolts into place, welding the metal framework, and securing wires where they belonged. His dad had asked him to repair the damaged drone, so that’s what he was currently working on. To anyone else, even weathered scientists and experienced mechanics, this would not have been an easy task. But Peter was not an average scientist and had engineered the first drone himself. This was beyond easy for him.

So, he let his mind wander. An activity he usually tried to avoid doing since he had the tendency to overthink anything and everything. His mind took him to the worst scenarios possible. But he couldn’t help it this time. There was too much running through his mind, and he’d never been able to entirely shut his brain off, no matter how hard he tried.

Rick had put a warrant out for his arrest. Spider-Man, who always protected the little guy and had never severely injured or actually killed anyone, was now a criminal. He was a criminal. 

His parents immediately grounded him from patrolling; his aunts and uncles agreed that it was now too dangerous for Peter to go out as Spider-Man. They wouldn’t even allow him to accompany them on missions, should one arise. And while the thought of him hiding out in the Tower while people were getting significantly hurt upset him, he couldn’t deny his family’s reasoning. Spider-Man wouldn’t be able to help people if he was locked up behind bars. 

Both Ned and MJ were worried about him. They were constantly checking in with him and were sending him more funny memes than usual – not that he minded. But it was obvious they were trying to keep his spirits up.

What scared him, above everything, was what Rick could be doing behind the scenes. That man was determined, conniving, and ruthless. He knew how to play people. And while Rick didn’t know about Ned or MJ - at least not to his knowledge anyway - Peter feared for their safety. 

He didn’t know what was going to happen next. But he knew that it couldn’t be anything good.

Peter was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of glass breaking. Which wasn’t anything new. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for tools to fall, nuts and bolts to go flying, test projects to explode, or anything else to occur that caused loud noises. Despite his sensitive ears, Peter never had a problem with the loud and oftentimes bizarre noises. 

But this time, the intense crack that echoed around the room, bouncing off the cement walls, sent shivers up his spine. Before Peter had a chance to process what he was feeling and figure out why the hell he felt so scared, a dark memory came flying back.

_A huge crash echoed out into the otherwise silent apartment. Peter froze as he looked at the tiny shards of glass scattered around the hallway. This was not good. Not at all. His breathing began to pick up rapidly._

Tony cursed under his breath. He should’ve known better than to leave glass lying around. But seeing U beep angrily at the mess he had just caused was sort of worth it. He looked up to call Peter over to calm his older sibling down but stopped short when he saw the distressed look on the teen’s face.

“Bud?” Alarm bells went off in Tony’s head. “What’s wrong?” He reached his hand out and gently touched the teen’s arm. “It’s okay-“ He quickly pulled his hand back when Peter jumped back, his eyes glassed over with fear.

_Peter frantically began picking up shards of glass as tears streamed down his pale and sunken cheeks. His hands would not stop shaking - a combination of severe malnutrition and utter terror. He couldn’t get caught. He just couldn’t._

_He’d been cleaning the apartment like he was tasked with doing every day. But he was exhausted from lack of sleep and weak from yesterday’s beating. So he was a bit clumsier than usual, and he had accidentally bumped the vase his aunt had sitting on the kitchen island._

_Yesterday’s beating had been particularly cruel. After being punished with two days of no food, Rick found it necessary to whip the teen with a belt until he passed out from the sharp pains that lanced up and down his back and narrow shoulders. After passing out, the teen had been haphazardly thrown into his room, the door locked behind him._

_His back was still stinging. Every time he lifted his arms, the bright red welts burned like hot coals. Dried blood still coated some of the deeper cuts where the belt buckle had pierced his skin. But he was used to the pain._

_Fresh blood was now dripping down his hands and onto the scuffed wood floor. The deep red liquid stood out brightly against the dull wood and pieces of glass strewn about. Fear driving him, he continued to pile the vase remains in his hands in hopes that May wouldn’t see._

Slowly, with both hands raised, Tony approached the shaking teen who had pressed himself up against the lab’s cement wall. He needed to calm Peter down, or he was going to pass out due to lack of oxygen from hyperventilating. 

He didn’t know what had caused the flashback, so he needed to be extra careful in case Peter suddenly lashed out. So he kept his hands up and visible.

“You’re in my lab, Pete. Not in the apartment, not on a mission, and not on patrol.” Tony took a few steps forward and silently cheered when Peter didn’t flinch or try to move away. “I don’t know where you are right now in your head, but I need you to listen to me. It’s okay, Peter.”

_“Peter!” May screeched. “You clumsy freak.”_

_“I’m so-sorry.” Peter’s timid reply was ignored._

_May grabbed Peter’s hair - which was nearly shoulder-length since it hadn’t been trimmed in over a year - and pulled his head back so hard that his neck popped. Using Peter’s lightweight and her height as an advantage, she threw her nephew to the floor. Directly into the shards of glass._

_Tears streamed down Peter’s cheeks like rivers as he lay curled up on his side, kicks and punches raining down on him. He was used to incidents like this, but that did not mean it didn’t hurt. Both physically and mentally._

“Please, Peter.” Tony stopped a foot away from his son, both hands up and visible to the teen. But Tony was positive the kid wasn’t actually seeing him; if the teen’s glassy eyes were anything to go by. So against his better judgment, he yelled, “Peter!”

That caught Peter’s attention. His head snapped up to look at the man standing in front of him, and he tried to press himself impossibly closer to the wall. He bit his bottom lip in an attempt to stop it from quivering. “P-please.”

Tony’s heart clenched painfully. He absolutely hated, no, completely despised seeing Peter like this. The rest of the team did too. It was beyond painful to be a helpless bystander and watch Peter suffer from one of his increasing nightmares or flashbacks. Like he hadn’t already suffered enough.

He tried again, desperation clear in his tone. “Peter, it’s Tony. It’s dad. We’re in my lab… together.”

“Da-dad?” 

Relief washed over the billionaire. The word was small and quiet, but it was enough. Peter wasn’t so deep in his memories that he couldn’t interact within the present environment. He smiled and dared to rest one hand on Peter’s shoulder. “It’s alright.” He sighed in relief. “Yeah, bud. It’s dad. I’m right here with you. Okay?”

“O-okay…” whispered Peter, his hands reaching up to lock onto his dad’s outstretched arm.

“Can you- can you please tell me what’s wrong?” Tony asked cautiously.

Peter’s eyes darted between the broken glass and Tony’s face, his grip on the mechanic never ceasing. “Th-the glass…” The teen’s voice wavered on every word, eyes still slightly foggy.

Tony turned his head to look at the shattered piece of glass that he’d bumped into earlier. It was just one of the random things he had lying around his lab that he hadn’t bothered to put away correctly.

Guilt immediately washed over him. “I’m so sorry, Underoos.” He shook his head, cursing his bad habit of being unorganized. “Can… can I hug you?” He asked once Peter’s breathing began to slow to a normal pace.

Without speaking, Peter collapsed against his dad’s sturdy chest, his skinny arms wrapping around the man’s neck. Tony’s shoulder quickly became damp. “May was there,” he sobbed, “she- I broke a vase… and-and she b-beat me.”

“Oh, Peter. I’m so sorry.” Tony cooed, gently rocking them back and forth. “I’ve got you.”

“I don’t know why… why I thought of that. That was years ago. I-I was eight.” Peter buried his head in his dad’s shoulder, both mentally and physically exhausted.

Tony held his son closer in response. “PTSD can come from any negative experience. It doesn’t matter how long ago it was. Not to mention, you only just started therapy six months ago... after years of abuse.” His voice cracked emotionally, and he cleared his throat, pausing for a minute to collect himself. 

“With all that’s… with all that’s happened to you and all that’s going on now, I… I’m not surprised that all of the horrible things you went through are coming to light.” His grip tightened on Peter. “As much as I hate to see it.” 

“I’m so messed up,” Peter huffed angrily, tears of frustration prickling his eyes.

“We all are.” Tony brushed the honey-brown curls aside and kissed the teen’s forehead. “There’s nothing wrong with being a little messed up.” Keeping an arm wrapped around his son’s narrow shoulders, he began leading them out of the lab. “Now, let’s go get some ice cream.”

*****************

“What do you mean, you don’t think I should come?” Screamed Bruce. He glared at his husband in a rare display of anger. 

“Bruce,” Tony followed his husband as he stomped from the penthouse kitchen to their bedroom, “just listen.” He put his hand on the bedroom door to stop it from shutting when Bruce tried to slam it closed.

Bruce spun around, so fast Tony was afraid he’d given himself whiplash. The scientist’s glare only deepened. “Listen to what? You’ve already made it clear that you don’t want me to come.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you to come,” Tony ground out, “I just don’t think it would be a good idea.” He tried to reason with his husband, knowing how frustrated and hurt Bruce must be feeling. But he was quickly losing his patience. “You and I both know that if you go in there, you are going to lose it! You’re great at keeping the Hulk contained, but we can not take any chances. Especially since we need to interrogate May, and I don’t want anything to go wrong.”

“I can keep myself calm!” Bruce shot back. “I’ve done it countless times before.”

“There are no guarantees, Bruce. May could say something that triggers you, and everything would go to hell! I want you to come, believe me, I do! But it’s just not a good idea.”

“Dammit, Tony!” Bruce screamed, tears pouring down his face. “He’s my son, and I’m going to fight for him.” He scrubbed at his eyes and looked away. “He doesn’t deserve this, and… and I need to be there for him.”

“Oh, honey.” All the fight left the billionaire, and he pulled Bruce into a hug, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. “I know how much Peter means to you. To both of us. I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry, too,” Bruce mumbled against his husband’s shoulder. “You’re right. Me coming wouldn’t be a good idea. I- I just feel so… helpless.” He bit his lip, trying to hold back the rest of his tears. “Like there’s nothing we can do.”

Tony sighed heavily, Bruce’s words resonating deep inside him. “Yeah. I’ve felt that too.” He felt the heat building behind his eyes and tried to blink the feeling away. “But we’ll figure it out, okay? I promise.”

“Yeah.” Bruce nodded, giving Tony one of his cute little smiles. “Promise.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Please be safe and take care of yourselves. I hope you and your families (pets included) are safe and well. Take care my amazing readers:)


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